Like Real People Do
by ratherbefree
Summary: It was just plain fitting that the fire alarm had went off at 3 in the morning, on Pam Beesly's third ever day of college.
1. come on, midnight

It was just plain fitting that the fire alarm had went off at 3 in the morning, on Pam Beesly's third ever day of college.

She had rushed out the door as soon as she'd recognised what it was, neglecting to even grab her glasses off the bedside table, grabbing the first item of clothing she could find that remotely resembled a jacket.

She guessed there was probably some sort of buddy system in place, and knew that it was pretty irresponsible for her to not be by her roommate's side, but Kelly had ran off as soon as her last class had ended, explaining quickly that she was " _off to find out where that hot guy from business lives"_ and hadn't heard from her since then.

Everyone from her building was gathered just a little away from the dorms. Most people were fully dressed and chatting fervently as though they'd been up for hours (which might well have been a possibility; this was college after all) but Pam had ended up wandering back towards the building, hiding round the side so as not to be seen.

She wrapped the hoodie around herself tightly. Despite it being only September, it was practically freezing out. If she blew out hard enough, she could see her breath mist away.

It had to have been at least 10 minutes since the alarm went off, and there was no sign of any management going on at all. She couldn't even hear sirens from firemen; she wasn't totally certain that anyone had even called the fire department, anyway.

It was annoying having to stand there by herself. It was only her third day after all, and she had met a grand total of 5 people so far, only 2 of them professors. Kelly was supposed to be her roommate, but she spent most of her time "at classes", some of which didn't even exist ( _diet experimentation_ , seriously? Since when was that a real class, at any school?) or hanging around other buildings. Then there was Angela, a blonde, prim girl with unusually good posture who stayed in a room a bit down the hall. Pam had bumped into her when she was moving one of her last boxes into her room and sent her stuff flying, and Angela had protectively touched her hand to the crucifix necklace around her neck.

The only other person she knew was some guy called Toby, who seemed nice enough but was constantly trying to be helpful, and he was in the year above, anyway.

It was pitch black outside - _seriously, when were the firemen coming?_ \- so she jumped out of her skin when someone suddenly jogged up to her, muttering " _shit, fuck"_ repeatedly under their breath.

Something touched her arm, and she jerked it away. In the poor light (and due to her forgetting her glasses, _again_ ) she could hardly see the person, but apparently he could see her perfectly well, because he hopped back awkwardly.

"Sorry," he sounded out of breath. "Didn't see you there."

He was standing about 2 feet away from her, and she could just make out his features. He was tall and had unruly dark hair (whether from sleep or not, she couldn't be sure) but the most prominent thing by far was the fact that she was at eye level with his bare chest.

"Are you-"

"Yep." He nodded several times, and Pam didn't know whether to laugh or not. "The alarm went off, and it woke me up…" He waved his hands about, explaining. "My roommate freaked out, said I didn't have time to grab anything, so here I am."

"Good to know I'm not the only one here whose roommate is insane." Pam consciously stared straight past him, but she tried to shoot him a grin. "I don't even know where mine's is. She disappeared a few hours ago, wanting to stalk some guy she met in a class."

"Seriously?" The boy laughed, running a hand through his hair. "Maybe it's our building. It's infested with crazy people."

"Curse of the Dunder-Mifflin block." Pam nodded seriously.

"How do I know you're not one of them?"

"I'm not the one standing outside at 3am in my underwear." She joked, wondering immediately after if she'd gone too far.

"Fair point." The boy stuck out his hand, shaking a little, probably because of the cold. "I'm Jim, by the way."

"Pam." She shook his hand, and she was right: it was frozen. "Are you okay? I mean, it's pretty cold out here-"

"I'm actually pretty warm. It's like a sauna; I might actually sleep out here tonight." He smiled wryly, but dropped the joking exterior after just a moment. "It's fucking freezing, honestly."

"Oh." She felt terrible joking around with this guy - Jim, wasn't it? - while he was standing _in his underwear_ , at 3 am, freezing. She was also wearing long-sleeved pyjamas under her hoodie.

"Do you want to borrow this?" She started to unzip the hoodie before he even answered, and bundled it up a little before handing it to him. (Making sure, of course, not to stare.)

"Uh, thanks. I'm not really sure this'll fit, though."

"Yeah, it might be a little big." Pam quipped, but shook her head. "Seriously. It's freezing; you said so yourself."

Jim opened his mouth, seemingly to object, but then just took it, finally. Pam turned away when he put it on, wanting to give him at least a little privacy. (Although she personally thought that the boundaries involving his privacy had already been pushed pretty far due to this whole exchange.)

"How do I look?" He asked, seriously.

When she turned around, she couldn't help but laugh. The hoodie reached down just past his navel, and the arms cut off just past his elbow. The pale pink colour didn't make it look any better, either.

"You somehow look worse now than you did before."

He laughed at her dumb joke, and Pam found herself laughing too. After a moment, Jim calmed down enough to tell her: "Really, though. Thank you. I feel warmer already."

"You're welcome." Pam found herself smiling at Jim, but caught herself and forced her eyes to the ground.

After a moment of awkward silence, Jim pressed on: "So, who's your crazy roommate?"

"My what?"

"You said you were glad you weren't the only one with a crazy roommate," Jim reminded her, "so, who is yours?"

"Oh! Uh, Kelly. Kelly Kapoor."

"What's so bad about her?"

"She's not _bad_ , I'm sure she's really nice." Pam frowned, suddenly feeling awful. She barely knew Kelly, and now she was laughing about her antics behind her back with some guy she'd just met.

At Jim's raised eyebrows, she continued: "We've hardly spoken, that's all. She's not in the room much… I don't even think she's arranged any of her stuff yet; it's all still in boxes next to her closet."

Jim seemed really interested in the story. Pam had to remind herself that he was probably just interested in how strange Kelly was, and not what she actually had to say.

"That is definitely odd." Jim agreed, nodding his head. His hair swished up and down with the movement.

"And," Pam continued, fuelled by Jim's interest, "she seems to attend classes that don't even _exist_ here. Earlier today she told me she was going to to an 8am " _critical magasine analysis"_ class, and disappeared. She only came back to get her purse at lunchtime, and I haven't seen her since."

"Wow." Jim laughed, and his breath sent clouds of happiness into the air. "I think she's _almost_ got my roommate beat."

"Only almost?"

Jim suddenly turned serious. "You've never had the pleasure of meeting Dwight Schrute. Trust me: he's worse."

"Go on."

"He refused to speak to me in English during _the entirety of our first day_. He demanded _German._ I can't even speak one word of German!"

"Oh my God," Pam covered her hand with her mouth, already starting to giggle.

"He wakes up at 6 am _every day_ , and at first I though he might just have an 8 am class or something, y'know, because that's a _normal_ reason for waking up at that time…"

"But…?" Pam prompted, eyebrows raised.

"Apparently he has to wake up at that time every day to help his cousin Mose " _tend to the_ _beets_ _on the farm"."_

(Jim seemed to be the type of person who spoke with their hands when they were enthusiastic about what they were saying, Pam couldn't help but notice.)

"That's insane." She was still laughing uncontrollably. "I concede. Your roommate's the worst."

"'Got that right."

"Hey, do you think you could-" Pam started, but was cut off by a loud shout.

"The fire was a hoax!" Some guy was screaming at the top of his lungs, standing, from where Pam could place the noise, at the entrance to the Dunder-Mifflin building. "Some idiot decided to have a midnight snack, and set off the fire alarm with the smoke from the toaster!"

"Oh God." Jim said, his voice barely above a shocked whisper.

"What?" Pam asked, hoping she didn't sound worried or over-invested or anything as weird as how she was feeling in the moment.

"That's him. That's my roommate."

"Dwight Schrute? Seriously?"

"Yep." Jim began walking round the side of the building, and poked his head round the corner of the wall to get a better look. "It's him, definitely. No one else here has the ability to look _that_ ridiculous."

"Not even someone wearing their boxers at 3 am in the cold outside?" Pam teased, but followed him as he walked round the entrance.

"Ha." He replied sarcastically.

They reached the entrance doors, where everyone was trying to get through all at once. Dwight stood by the doors unhelpfully, shouting orders at people walking past. Pam didn't manage to get quite as good of a look of him as she'd have liked, but caught sight of huge 70s-barbecue-dad glasses and what appeared to be a nightcap.

She turned to where Jim had been behind her just moments ago to shoot him an amused look, but he wasn't there.

She craned her neck, trying not to look too obvious, but spotted him being dragged away by Dwight. He didn't turn to look back; just kept trying to yank his arm out of his roommate's grasp.

Pam felt as though a part of her had shrunk up a little, but continued up to her room.

It was only once she arrived there that she recognised that feeling as disappointment.


	2. a little less conversation

Kelly was already there when Pam returned to the room. Sat cross-legged on her still unmade bed, she was pleating her hair with a ferocity Pam had never seen associated to the act.

"Hi," Pam started, sitting at the foot of her own bed to take off her shoes. "I'm really sorry, I couldn't find you when the alarm went off... Were you okay?"

"I was great, actually." Kelly grinned as she threaded the finishing touches of her hair into place, tying it quickly with a small band. "I was with Ryan."

"Ryan...?"

"The guy from business." Kelly said, as if it was obvious.

"Oh." _So that's where she was all night._

"By the way, did you see that weirdo?"

"Dwight?"

"Who the Hell's Dwight?" Kelly leaned closer conspiratorially. "You got his name?"

"Dwight. He was the guy standing by the door yelling at everyone, with the creepy glasses, and the nightcap."

"Oh," Kelly looked disappointed, and slumped over to tend to something on her bedside table. Pam took the opportunity to rummage through her own bedside drawers to find her glasses. (She had a strong feeling that Kelly wasn't going to stop this conversation anytime soon, and it would help if she could actually _see_ who she was talking to.)

"Well, that wasn't the guy I was thinking of."

"Which weirdo guy, then?" Pam asked, curious. She hadn't noticed anything more out-of-the-ordinary than Dwight.

Kelly frowned, turning back to face her roommate. "Tall dude. He was arguing with the creepy door guy - Dwight? - _and_ he didn't have any clothes on. You should have seen him, Pam, it was _totally_ ridiculous!" She burst into giggles, shifting on her bed until her feet were dangling off, near Pam's (who herself couldn't help but notice the 4 toe rings present on her feet.)

"Uh, no, I did see him..." She concentrated on a little piece of thread hanging from her pyjama bottoms. "He didn't seem that weird."

"You were talking to him, weren't you?" Kelly asked, although it sounded more like a statement of fact. " _That's_ where you were the whole time? Flirting with the underwear guy?"

"I- No, we weren't..." She shook her head, almost violently. "It wasn't _flirting._ He was just, well, _there_ , so we talked a little."

"Sure." Kelly definitely didn't believe her. "Don't you have a boyfriend, anyway? The burly guy in that one photo?" She pointed to the picture, pinned to the cork board above Pam's bed. One of the smallest photos she had up; it was taken right after their high school graduation. Roy's eyes were crossed (he had denied it at the time, but Pam had suspected he was already a little drunk) and his arm was slung over her shoulders.

"Yeah. Roy." The answer was automatic; ingrained in her after almost 5 years of being with him.

"So that means that, like, underwear guy is totally up for grabs, then?"

Pam swallowed forcefully. "Uh, sure. But what about the business guy... Ryan, was it?"

"Ryan's cute, but I never know what he wants, you know? He's just so... Mysterious. Like, it's hot, but I don't know if I could ever, like, _settle down_ with him."

Pam had to bite her tongue to keep from reminding her new friend that she had literally only know this Ryan for 3 days.


	3. i just sighed, just so you know

Pam woke up at 10:30 the next day, due to her late night spent chatting with Kelly. Ideally she would have set an alarm to wake her up at an earlier time, but Kelly had complained the last (and first) time she set one, exclaiming that "no one _ever_ wake up at 7am, Pam!"

(Despite having a supposed array of 8am classes, Kelly herself usually woke up around 7:55 on days where she was required to be up early.)

Incidentally, her roommate was gone at the moment. To where, Pam had no idea.

With Kelly gone, Pam was able to get ready for the day _in her own room_ , a luxury she hadn't had the ability to utilise until this moment. (When Kelly was around, Pam usually grabbed her stuff and fled to the communal bathrooms to get ready, because she just really, really didn't want to intrude on Kelly and give her any reason to dislike her.)

Once she had finished pinning her untameable, annoyingly frizzy hair down her back in one of her many black clasps, she unlocked her phone.

Roy had apparently drunk-texted her while she was asleep.

 _FROM: Roy Anderson_

 _TO: Pam_

 _wyd 2222222222nihgt aims out havignnhn dringnkign w brosssjhjfbjdgdd_

 _fjdgndfjgnjwfw doadoa3746283742iwifhsjfsdjhfbh lfkdgdlf_

Of course Roy would be out getting drunk on his third night spent at college. Privately, Pam didn't think that was the best choice, considering the fact that he was attending community college and still lived with his mother, due to being rejected from the very college _she_ was currently attending.

(He'd begged her to stay closer to home, but she'd gotten into her _first choice_ , and she knew chances like that didn't come round often. It caused a fight between them, one of the biggest ones they'd ever had, but she was proud that she'd stood her ground.)

 _FROM: Pam_

 _TO: Roy Anderson_

 _Good morning! How are you after last night?_

She hit send, and waited until the little blue bar shot across the top of the screen to show the message had been delivered, before tossing her phone onto her bed.

After changing into a teeshirt and jeans, she checked her timetable for the semester. Today, she had History at quarter past 1, and then Art History at 4:30. Overall, the day wasn't looking too terrible.

Since she had time to kill, she figured she would just mess around on her laptop for a while, and perhaps call her mom if she had time.

Her plans were soon thrown out the window, however, as Kelly stormed into the room about an hour later.

"What's wrong?" Pam asked, startled from he noise Kelly made when she slammed the door shut.

"It was that asshole from last night. Dwight Schrute." She flopped down on her bed and crossed her arms, huffed.

"Oh?" Perhaps if Dwight was involved, Jim might have been, as well. She found it a little odd that she was perking up at any mention of a link to Jim, but assured herself that it was only natural. He was one of the strangest people she had met at college so far (or maybe the most normal?) so of course that would make her want to know more about him.

(A smaller part of her whispered that that wasn't the reason at all, that there was an entirely different - and infinitely more confusing - reason for her interest in him, but she paid as little attention to it as possible.)

"Yeah. He's convinced it was _Ryan_ who set off the fire alarm last night. He wouldn't leave us alone during breakfast."

"You ate breakfast together?" Pam asked distractedly, hoping that Kelly wouldn't notice how she wasn't really participating in the conversation.

"Oh, Pam, it was like _fate_." Kelly gushed, flipping her dark hair over her shoulders. "I just walked into the dining hall and..." She sighed dramatically. "There he was." Her expression changed as she added: "And _Dwight_ was there, too."

"Just Dwight?"

Kelly raised an eyebrow. "Who else would be there?"

"Um..." _Kelly obviously know who I'm talking about._ She thought, flustered. _Why do I have to say it?_

Her roommate wouldn't budge, just kept smirking at her knowingly.

"Jim? The underwear guy?" She cringed as she said his nickname. "Just, last night he mentioned that his roommate was Dwight, so maybe-"

"Okay, yeah, he was there." Kelly sighed, and shook her head disapprovingly. "You've known him for less than 24 hours, Pam. It's worrying how obsessed you are with him."

Pam only thought wryly that the irony in Kelly's statement was almost too much to handle.

Pam arrived early for her History class, setting her laptop and notes down on a desk near the back at only a little past 1. The professor wasn't even there yet, and she found it oddly peaceful to sit alone in the empty classroom.

Once she had everything set up, she impulsively checked her phone to see if Roy had texted back.

He hadn't, but she kind of expected that.

(If this were 4 years ago, she might have been disappointed, but after dating him for such a long time she'd just gotten used to him not texting back, especially after a night out.)

There was at least one message from her mom -

 _FROM: Mom!_

 _TO: Pam_

 _Hi, honey! How are things? Have you spoken to your roommate any more?_

She couldn't help smiling as she read the message. Her mom always seemed to know how to cheer her up, even when she didn't know her daughter needed it.

 _FROM: Pam_

 _TO: Mom!_

 _Hi! i'm great, how are things at home? Yesterday night was... Interesting! I can't explain it over text, lol! And Kelly and I have been getting along fine! She's quite talkative, but I think that makes for a nice balance between us, you know? Can I call you later? :)_

When she looked up from her phone, trying again to conceal her smile, the room was still empty. There was still another 10 minutes or so to spare before the lesson began, so she decided to pass the time by playing one of the repetitive, cutesy mini-games she'd installed in her phone.

(Roy was always going on at her to delete at least _some_ of them, especially the level-based ones she'd already completed a billion times, but there was just something about so calming and peaceful about playing the levels over and over again, being congratulated for doing so even though at this point the moves were pretty much methodical. The music, also, was nice, and made Pam think about quiet nights spent at home with her mom when she was little.)

She was already on level 8 of the Pacman ripoff game when she heard the soft crunch of footsteps on the shoddy old carpet. A few students were starting to filter in, and Pam scanned their faces quickly to see if she recognised anyone.

She didn't know anyone, but the people she saw definitely seemed... Interesting. Most notably, a man around 5 or 6 years older than she who seemed to be constantly singing, a loud and rude-sounding English woman, and a quiet, out-of-place boy who seemed to be the same age as herself, fishing with a rainbow badge on his striped sweater, clearly a member of the LGBT+ Students Association.

With still a good few minutes to go until the professor would arrive, Pam was perfectly content to continue messing around on her phone and hoping no one would take the seat next to her, until a loud voice broke the silence of the room:

"Attention, all!" Some guy's voice rang out from the doorway, and Pam snapped her head back up only to realise that the crazy yelling guy was, of course, Dwight Schrute.

Once Dwight was happy with the amount of attention he was getting from the other students (everyone was staring at him in a mix of confusion and anger, and the singing guy from before had been stunned into silence) he continued whatever speech he had planned. "The man about to enter the room is an utter _felon-"_ (Pam was sure she could see a few flecks of spit sly from his mouth at this) "-who is _absolutely_ not to be trusted. I warn you!"

All eyes were still on him. Seemingly wanting to keep up his act, he stepped aside from the door only to mutter: "You can enter now, numbskull."

In the full clothing, daytime attire of a grey hoodie and jeans, in sauntered Jim.


	4. on the back of a hurricane

"Sorry I'm late." He ran a hand over the back of his head and Pam watched: up, down, up, down, up…

The rest of the class still seemed to be in shock at what Dwight had done, but most had gone back to choosing their seats and setting out their study materials. No one was really paying attention to Jim except from Pam and Dwight (who's eyes were following Jim like a hawk).

He walked up the middle row of seats, scanning faces. Apparently, he didn't really know anyone in the class either.

Pam raised her hand awkwardly, waving it a little in the air to catch his attention before she lost her courage. When Jim caught sight of her, his eyes lit up, and he walked over in her direction with more purpose than he had previously.

"I thought you might want to be saved from sitting with Dwight." Pam explained, shifting her notebook to her side so it wouldn't overlap with his new desk.

"How can I ever repay you for this?" He shrugged off his computer bag, sitting it on the desk with a thud. "You've literally saved my life."

"Well, you're welcome." Pam said, smiling.

Jim waited until he had everything set up before speaking again. Pam watched on with interest, taking note of how he angled his laptop so that it's edges were in perfect proportion to the edges of the desk.

"This isn't gonna be weird, right?" Jim asked, seemingly self-conscious.

Pam couldn't really tell if he was joking or not. "Why?"

"Just… The last time we met - first time, really - it was under strange circumstances… You know?" He floundered, looking to her hopefully as if she might know the answer to whatever he was trying to say.

"The fact that you had no clothes on when we first met had nothing to do with how I plan on interacting with you from now on." Pam said matter-of-factly, earning a low chuckle from her new friend.

"Good." He bowed his head, but Pam could tell he was still grinning.

It filled her with a strange sense of glee, knowing that she could really make someone laugh. She'd never really thought of herself as the funny, charismatic type - if she was completely honest, she was more of a mouse, scurrying through social interactions and freezing when cornered at parties and squeaking whenever she was forced to talk.

(It's just that Roy was always the funny one, and Pam was always told how lucky she was to be with "the one guy who could make everyone laugh."She faked giggles until a couple years after they started dating, but nowadays she just didn't see the point in it.)

"So, uh… What brings you to the wonderful world of college History classes?"

Jim's question caught her slightly off guard. There was no time to think of a good response, so she just blurted out the first thing that came to her head: "It's easy."

"Fair enough." He laughed a little at her blunt reply, and Pam felt the immediate need to correct herself.

"Like, there's no 'what-ifs'." She explained, hoping she could get her point across. When she had tried to explain the same thing to Roy and their friends before high school finished up, they just didn't seem to understand, and for some reason it was important for her that Jim did.

"You learn what happened, what we know. The past can't be changed, so there's never any variables, you know? Different historians have different perspectives on things but despite the tweaked accounts, the past happened one way, and it can never be changed." She finished her speech with a blush creeping up her cheeks, and only hoped that she hadn't creeped him out with her weird fascination for events that took place centuries ago.

"I get you." Jim nodded slowly, reflecting on what she had said. "That was… Surprisingly philosophical of you, Pam - wait, what was your last name again?"

"Beesly."

"Beesly?!" Jim asked in apparent glee. "That's got to be the best surname I've heard of, ever." He laughed even more, shaking his head in mock-disbelief. "Beesly!"

"Shut up," Pam muttered, unsure of whether to feel indignant or happy that something as simple as her surname was making him laugh. She attempted to redirect the topic of conversation back to his original question to her. "Anyway, why did you take History?"

He swung back in his chair, seemingly concentrating hard on the question. After a long moment, he finally answered, shifting his chair forward again. "I guess… Similar reasons to yours. I'm good at it." When Pam raised her eyebrows at his remark, he added, quickly: "I don't mean to sound arrogant, I swear! But I really am good at it. It was my best subject back in high school. And, I don't know, it's just cool to study."

Pam gave him a small nod, suddenly aware of the amount of eye-contact they'd shared over the past few minutes. She redirected her gaze to her desk, shuffling her notebook and stationary over to the side, placing them on top of her laptop. When she caught sight of Jim out the corner of her eye, he looked a little disappointed, and she had to try hard not to read into it.

(It's just that looking at him like that made her feel guilty. She knew that if they shared too many looks /like that/, she'd find herself… In trouble. She was dating Roy and had been for the last 5 years, and their relationship was fine. She couldn't really see any possible future where she wasn't with Roy, and though she was hesitant to use the word, looking at Jim like that made her feel an awful lot like a cheater.)

She was (thankfully) disrupted from her reverie when the door to the classroom slammed shut. A short, middle-aged man with dark hair turned to face the class.

"I bet you're all wondering why I'm not sitting down with you guys." The man spoke, addressing the class as a whole. No one replied, and he smiled smugly. "Well, it may surprise you all to discover that I am, in fact…" He paused, apparently for dramatic effect, although Pam could tell that people were already losing interest.

After far too long a pause, he finally finished his sentence. "The professor!"

He clearly didn't get the response he was looking for, whatever that response was, so he strode over to his desk and shrugged off his jacket.

"In this class, you will learn a lot." He spread his hands, leaning his back against the edge of his desk. "A lot. In a way, I am your mentor in this wonderful world of college History."

Pam could hear frantic typing coming from someone sitting a little way to the left, in the row in front of her. Upon further inspection, she noticed it was Dwight, and when she squinted to make out what he was typing, she released it was a transcript of the professor's speech.

Thinking Jim would get a kick out of Dwight's weird behaviour, she softly touched his elbow. He jumped a little, as if shocked, but asked her what was wrong, his eyes darting back to the professor constantly to make sure they wouldn't get caught talking while the professor was trying to teach.

"Look, Dwight." Pam told him, nodding to where the weirdo sat.

Jim realised what she was talking about immediately, and had to stifle his laughter. "I can't believe this." He whispered, shaking his head.

"I know," Pam shot him a grin. "Is he gonna do this the whole class?"

"How fast can he type?" Jim marvelled. "I guess I don't need to listen to the professor anymore, if I can just read Dwight's notes from here."

"Is he still transcripting?" Pam asked. "He's moved his head, I can't see anymore."

"Yeah." Jim tilted his head to the side, trying to see around Dwight. "He's making notes on the professor, too. Apparently his name is 'Michael G. Scott'. He's into improv and has-" he put on a surprisingly accurate Dwight voice. "'An array of knowledge in the historical concepts on post-Civil War America'."

"Nice," She let out a short laugh before she was able to stop herself, and quickly turned to make sure the professor hadn't heard. Thankfully, he didn't seem to notice what went on at the back of the class.

Nearly 10 minutes had passed before Michael Scott was even close to finishing his introduction to the class. Pam had stopped listening around the time he delved into talking about his "youthful personality and boyish good looks" which apparently made him an object of jealousy for many other teachers and students.

She'd begun a little sketch in the margin of her notebook (lying open and blank, for Mr. Scott hadn't said anything relevant to the course yet) of a small, scrappy dog. She filled in the eyebrows carefully, and drew it's mouth open impossibly wide. As time passed, she could tell that Jim was watching her draw.

Wanting to check that he really was watching her, she printed "MICHAEL G SCOTT" underneath the sketch.

Jim snickered, earning himself a few annoyed looks by other members of the class. "That's brilliant." He told Pam softly, ignoring the others.

"Thanks." She smiled, staring down at the page. "He reminds me of a little, yappy dog."

He grinned at her, then had an idea. "Do you mind?" He gestured to her notebook.

"No, go ahead." She watched on as he slid the notebook over onto his desk, and hunched over the drawing, scribbling something in pencil. Pam had to admit that she was a little worried about him adding anything to the drawing - her art was one of the few things she was very protective of, and even though it was only a dumb sketch about her crazy History professor, she didn't want it ruined.

She felt Jim nudge her arm and jumped, even though his touch was soft.

"Sorry," he smiled apologetically, and slid the notebook over to her again. He watched her as she read the little speech bubble he'd drawn coming from the dog, and added nervously: "I wrote it all in pencil, so if it's totally dumb then you can just erase it."

"What do you mean you don't mistake me for being a student? I look exactly like you all!"

"It's funny," she assured him, looking back up from the page to grant him a smile. "And true."

"What can I say? I'm a funny guy." Jim bragged, and for a minute Pam feared he was being totally unironic in his statement.

"Funny looking, maybe."

"Oldest trick in the book, Beesly. I can't believe you."

"Okay, I concede. You're the funniest person I know. I have to stop myself from dying of laughter whenever I'm around you." Pam deadpanned.

Jim shook his head, grinning at the desk. "Shut up. You win."

"Thank you." She smirked.

* * *

Michael G Scott managed to end the hour-long class without even starting the course, a feat Pam would have deemed impossible before meeting him.

The class was… Fun. It was nice to be able to sit with Jim, a new friend, especially considering he was the only person she really knew in the class. After helping her with her cartoon of their professor as a dog, they had proceeded to wonder aloud (no one seemed to care at this point, anyway) what type of animal Dwight would be, (Pam suggested an otter, but Jim had protested that "otters are way too cute, and they actually have a purpose in the world," so they mutually agreed that he would be a mole scurrying around in his custom-built underground tunnels) and somehow that conversation led to them trying to work out the personalities and nicknames of the other people in the class. (Notably, the man from before who apparently loved to sing was nicknamed Trust Fund Sweatervest, and the English woman was nicknamed Queenie. Together, they made up elaborate backstories for the both of them.)

She'd only known him for a day, but Jim was probably her best friend at the school, considering that she hadn't much in common with Kelly, and everyone else she had spoken to so far had seemed bored, tired, or stoned.

Jim waited for her by the classroom door, shifting from foot to foot. When they got outside the room and out of Michael's earshot, Jim exclaimed: "That was the weirdest class I've ever been to."

"I know, right?" Pam loaded her bag over her shoulder. "I mean, you'd think he would at least /touch on/ what we're actually meant to be learning about there."

"Maybe this course of History is all about the past of Michael G. Scott," Jim mused.

"And we'll be expected to write a paper about how the influences of Jerry Seinfeld persuaded him to get into stand-up."

"That would definitely be a short paper." He scoffed. "In conclusion: Michael G. Scott attempted to get into comedy and failed miserably, spending the rest of his life teaching history to annoying college students."

"Yeah," Pam laughed. They walked in silence for a moment, standing close together as though they were good friends.

Suddenly it registered to Pam that they were both walking in the same direction. She was heading back to her room, and wondered where Jim was heading to. She asked him as they walked, and she watched his out the corner of her eye.

"Back to my room." He sounded confused. "Why, where are you going?"

"My room, as well. You're in the Dunder-Mifflin block too, right?"

"Yeah, of course." He held the door open for her and they stepped outside.

It was pretty warm, and in the distance Pam could see other students lounging around on the grass, studying but mostly just relaxing in the nice weather. She was tempted to ask Jim if he'd like to sit with her for a while, but worried that it would seem weird, that they weren't at the point in their friendship yet where it would be acceptable to just hang out, outside of classes. Another day, she thought to herself, content in her knowledge that there would, definitely, be a time where they could hang out together.

They reached the door to her room far sooner than she would have liked. She pointed it out to him and he stopped in his tracks.

Pam leaned against the door, wondering what to say. "Goodbye?" "See you later?" "Bye for now?"

"Bye, then." Jim spoke before Pam had the chance. "I guess I'll see you around?"

He seemed nervous. (Why was he nervous?) "I mean, we have History again on Friday, right?"

"Yeah." He nodded quickly. "So, um. I'll see you then."

"Bye!" Pam said, a little too cheerfully, and she watched him disappear down the hall. He turned to go into the stairwell and she lost sight, so she unlocked the door to her own room, embarrassed by the fact that she was sort of trying to find out where he lived in the block.

* * *

FROM: Roy Anderson

TO: Pam

last night was rough lol

Pam checked the text he'd sent her, but didn't reply. Instead, she plugged her phone into charge, and set it screen down on her desk. The same strange feeling of guilt from before creeped in, just a little, but she ignored it.

There was WiFi in their dorm, so Pam used it to log into her Facebook, hoping to pass the time before her next class. There wasn't anything new: a couple drunken selfies Roy had been tagged in, and a couple posts made from people in her highschool complaining about college life already. Kelly had posted 3 times that day, but it was mostly nonsense, plus a couple of posts made by other people at school.

Pam only had one person from school as a friend on Facebook; Kelly, who was added mostly out of necessity given the fact they were going to be living together for at least the first school year. She knew there were groups for people in their dorm and in their block, but so far she hadn't been invited into any of them, and besides, she'd probably be too shy to talk to anyone.

Of course, she knew Jim. But she couldn't remember if he had told her his last name or not.

She wondered absentmindedly what the appropriate point was in a new friendship to add each other on Facebook.

* * *

She had had Art History once before, and since the seat she sat in the first time wasn't taken, she dumped her bag there. It wasn't the best seat in the class, as it was a little too far to the right for her to see the smartboard without craning her neck, but no one had claimed the seat next to her and she could spread out her things, so she didn't really mind.

Pam had only spoken a little to the other members of her class - Angela was in the class, but she sat right at the front, and didn't really talk unless to answer a question. An older woman named Phyllis sat directly in front of Pam, and on their first meeting had informed her that she was able to finally attend college as her husband, Bob Vance (of Vance Refrigeration, a company down town) was helping her pay. Finally, there was a larger man, Kevin, who confessed at the start of their first class that he was "only here to see some naked ladies", and was gravely disappointed when he was told what the class was actually about.

(Kevin reminded her a little of Roy, in some absurd way.)

The professor was a balding man in his late 50s, and he seemed to care about the subject of the class quite a lot. He liked to call on random members of the class to give their opinion on whatever topic he was currently discussing, and although Pam was usually nervous about being called on in classes, she found herself hoping to be chosen.

* * *

"This is seriously sad." Kelly said matter-of-factly, shaking her head at Pam, who was sitting cross-legged on her bed, attempting to comb her hair with her fingers.

"It's not that I don't want to eat with you, or anything like that." Pam assured her, hoping that Kelly would finally understand - the argument had been going on since Kelly arrived, at around 5, and she was now ready to leave, at half past 6.

"I just don't get it." Her expression suddenly turned soft, and Pam knew that she was only trying to help her, the best way she knew how. "Why would you want to stay cooped up all the time?"

"I just have a lot of studying to do." Pam gestured to her laptop, sitting open beside her. "I'd love to go to dinner with you and Ryan, I really would, but I need to use my free time wisely." She sounded exactly like her mother.

Kelly sighed once again, but pushed her arms through her jacket sleeves, and flicked her hair out. "Promise you won't spend the entire semester locked up in here every night?"

"I promise." Pam gave her a half-hearted smile, and watched as her roommate left.

* * *

I made a playlist for this fic! It's on 8tracks: /mynameisnotmya/like-real-people-do however I would say that it isn't great, as I had to use Soundcloud for all the tracks and many of them are poor quality and some are covers. I posted the tracklist on my writing tumblr: post/120630593812/lrpd-tracklist in case anyone's curious what the actual songs are meant to sound like.

Thanks so much for the reviews! they're really motivating :)


	5. that's what's up

**_hey! just wanted to preface this by saying that this chapter didn't really come out the way i wanted it to. it was_** ** _strangely difficult to write, and i'm not totally sure when the next one's gonna be up. i was going to merge this one and the next one together, but i figured it'd been too long since i'd posted a chapter, so here this is._**

 ** _i'm sorry if its not great! like i said, it was hard to write, but hopefully things will be back to normal soon. :) thanks for reading so far!_**

* * *

 _One week later._

"So, what's on the agenda for today?" Pam asked, leaning over the table.

She, Jim, Kelly, and sometimes even Dwight had been eating meals together the past few days. It had all started a little while ago, when Kelly had been able to convince her to eat lunch with her and Ryan, and Jim and Dwight had just sort of ended up sitting with them.

It was nice. They weren't really a friendship group (or at least not in the same way as Pam knew from her experiences back in high school) but it was fun to have some people to sit with when having breakfast, lunch, or dinner. Although not everyone could eat at the same time due to classes and the like, she and Jim were mostly on a similar timetable, and Kelly was usually around.

"History, and then lunch?" He tilted his head tot he side, working out what time would be best so that everyone could be together. "At around 3? Because you have Art History, and I don't think Dwight can make it at that time, so that's obviously a big plus."

"Totally." She tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "Hey, can we have lunch outside today? The weather doesn't look too bad, and it should be warm…"

"Sure," he grinned. "I don't know how Kelly will react to that, though. The wind might mess up her hair."

"God forbid." Pam rolled her eyes. Kelly was great, and incredibly welcoming, but she could be a bit of a ditz sometimes. "Well, if she doesn't want to come then it's her loss. We can enjoy the fresh air together."

Jim smiled down into his coffee. It took her a minute to realise why, but then it hit her: this would be the first time she and Jim would properly _hang out_ together, outside of class. Alone.

(And that guilt creeped back in. She still hadn't told Roy about Jim, instead referring only to "her friends" whenever she spoke to him about school.)

"You don't have to." She blurted out, not thinking. "I mean, if you really don't want to, then we can just sit with Ryan and Kelly inside…"

"No, it's fine." He assured her. "I like sitting outside to eat. It makes food taste better, weird as it sounds."

"I get it."

"So, it's a date then?"

Pam's eyes widened. "I - uh, no-"

"Figure of speech." Jim chuckled, shaking his head at her. "Relax." He was making a joke out of it, as he always seemed to be doing, but an expression of hurt flashed over his face, if only for a brief second.

* * *

After a particularly excruciating History class (involving three anecdotes from Michael Scott, one song clumsily performed on ukulele, and exactly twenty three questions from Dwight) Pam was heading back to her room.

Jim had asked if she could find some kind of blanket so they wouldn't have to sit directly on the grass, and she knew there was at least one unused blanket in a closet somewhere, so she agreed to meet him round the side of the Dunder-Mifflin building, at a spot down the slope of the large grassy hill.

She felt a little giddy, in a nervous way.

(Jim was… _Cool_. And not in the way Ryan could be considered cool, but more like the grunge, "cool kid" stereotype from 80s movies. He was easy-going; laidback. The type of guy everyone immediately liked. He'd already been invited to more than a few "exclusive" parties, though he'd declined most of them.)

Although she had tried to forget about it, Jim's words kept repeating themselves in her head.

 _Date._

 _He can't think it's a date, right?_ She thought to herself. _We're just friends. He knows that._

After a minute or two of searching, Pam eventually settled on a big, ratty old towel. She figured Jim wouldn't mind, and she was going to have to get rid of it sooner later anyway.

The elevator took a beat too long to arrive, so Pam rushed down the stairs instead, bounding down two steps at a time. When she finally pushed through the doors to get outside, the sun shined into her eyes. It was almost uncomfortable, but as her eyes adjusted she realised it wasn't too bad - she'd just been inside for a long time, and it was, after all, a very nice day.

Jim stood at the spot they'd agreed on. He was carrying a grocery bag, so Pam supposed he must have just arrived. He waved when he caught sight of her, grinning as she approached.

"I brought an old towel instead," she informed him, flapping it out before setting it on the ground, carefully.

"That's fine." He lifted the grocery bag apologetically. "I couldn't find a picnic basket, unfortunately."

"You didn't bring one?"

"I forgot," he shook his head, somehow maintaining a completely serious face. "I packed one before leaving, but I must've left it in my friend's car."

"Disappointing, Jim. Everyone knows you need to pack /at least/ 2 picnic baskets before moving off to college." She sat down slowly, not wanting to fall.

Jim followed suit, kicking his long legs out in front of him. "How many did you take, then?"

"7." She said sincerely, grinning triumphantly when Jim burst out laughing. "You broke first!" She exclaimed gleefully. Usually, when they were joking around, she was the one to break.

"I concede. You win," he held up his hands, surrendering.

"As punishment, you shall set out the food." Pam ordered, knowing fine well that that was what he was going to do anyway.

"You're ruthless." He replied, but emptied the grocery bag onto the makeshift picnic blanket anyway.

It wasn't really anything special; just some cafeteria food wrapped in tinfoil to keep it warm. He'd managed to get her her favourite mixed-berry flavoured yoghurt (how he knew that, she had no idea), and a couple of sodas for them both. It was a little overwhelming, but she convinced herself she was just happy to have such a good friend at this new school.

(She'd never admit it out loud, but Roy hadn't actually put any real effort into any of their dates since around their second year, and Jim reminded her of how it actually felt to be with someone who actually cared about dates.)

"Is that sufficient?" Jim asked, keeping up the joke.

"I suppose," Pam replied, inspecting the parcels of food wrapped in tinfoil.

"I wasn't sure what you would want, so I got a hamburger as well as a grilled cheese," He sounded apologetic.

"Grilled cheese sounds great," she grabbed the rectangle-shaped parcel and unwrapped it, grinning when the smell wafted out. It was still quite hot, but she ate in silence nevertheless.

"It's so quiet, without having Ryan or Kelly or Dwight around." Jim remarked after a moment.

Pam cocked her head to the side, chewing thoughtfully. "I guess." She agreed, once she was done. "I think it's nice."

"It is, don't get me wrong." Jim assured her, leaning back, propping himself up with his arms. "Just, we hardly ever hang out together, you know? Outside History, I mean."

"Well, Kelly's always around." Pam shrugged, taking another bite of the grilled cheese. "And Dwight's always trying to get you to confess to something or other."

(It was true: just the other day Dwight had stormed down to the cafeteria during lunch, demanding Jim confess to putting his stapler in jello. Pam had found it incredibly funny at the time, but Dwight only got more annoyed. Jim mouthed along when Dwight exclaimed his token "Dammit, Jim!")

"We should do this more often, though. Don't you think?"

 _What does he mean by that?_ Her thoughts were whirring. "Sure."

Jim's phone went off, so he paused for a moment to check it, frowning. After, sliding it back into his pocket, he asked suddenly: "Do you want to go to this party on Friday? It's a little way out of town, but I can drive, if you want. My cousin's throwing it, apparently it's his boyfriend's birthday or something."

 _Oh._ Was he asking her out? _We're just friends._ _He knows that._

"I, uh…" She stuttered, not really knowing what to say. She knew she had to tell him about Roy, but how could she do it without embarrassing him? He was her best friend, and she really, really couldn't bear to lose that.

"I'll need to ask Roy, first." She lied. "My boyfriend. I said we could do our weekly video call on Friday, but I can probably reschedule." She watched him carefully, waiting for his reaction.

"Oh." He cast his eyes downwards, but only for a moment. Soon, he was back to normal again. "That's fine. You should text me, we can arrange something."

Pam was glad he didn't seem bothered. _Maybe there really wasn't anything there._

They exchanged numbers, and the rest of the lunch was spent mostly in comfortable silence, punctuated by jokes or anecdotes about Kelly and Dwight.

In the end, Pam had to leave in a rush to make it to Art History on time, so she quickly said her goodbyes, scooping up the old towel in her arms.

"Thanks for this," she grinned, and, on impulse, leaning up to plant a kiss on his cheek.

Jim's eyes widened a little, but he kept his cool. "Hey, you're welcome. I, uh, I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Sure." She nodded. "I'll text you, about the party."

Jim looked as though he might have forgotten about the party for a second, before snapping out of it. "Oh! Yeah, sure. Let me know, I can drive or whatever. It's not too far, just outside town."

"Alright." She shifted the towel in her arms, playing with a loose thread distractedly. "Well, I'll see you tomorrow! I've got to go."

"See you tomorrow!" Jim grinned as he watched her go.

(Maybe if she'd turned around, she would have seen how he ran a hand down his face, and shuffled his feet. Maybe she'd have realised that _of course_ Jim wasn't fine at all.)


	6. you're the judge

**thanks for all the reviews so far! and a big thank you to Idnaoj80 for suggesting that jim go on a date with kelly :) this was pretty fun to write!**

 **title taken from: "The Judge" by Twenty One Pilots**

* * *

It had been almost 2 days since Jim had asked her out. (Not that she was totally sure he really did ask her out, but there was insinuation in his words nevertheless.)

He seemed completely over it - neither had mentioned the incident, and remained very good - best? - friends, anyway, but Pam just couldn't stop thinking about it. She chalked it up to the fact that she hadn't been asked out in nearly 5 years (aside from gross friends of Roy's, but she was pretty sure they meant it as some kind of mean joke.)

(Of course it wasn't, and a large part of her knew that, but she ignored her instincts. We're just friends.)

She had indeed texted him about the party, and was looking forward to it. (A little surprising, since for the most part she wasn't fond of parties. Maybe it would be different in College. Maybe it would be different with Jim.) He was driving, since he was familiar with the directions, which, as he'd jokingly pointed out, left Pam free to "get completely wasted."

As it was on Friday, there was a whole 2 days before the night. Pam grew more excited about it with each day that passed. She'd even told her mom about it during one of their phone calls.

Roy didn't know about it, and she didn't really have any intention of telling him. He'd probably be mad she was going to a party with a guy, and then she'd feel guilty for even considering going, and then she'd turn down the opportunity. (That was usually how these things went, with Roy.)

It was 5pm, and her classes were over for the day. She was waiting in her room with Kelly (who was preoccupied, texting furiously on her phone) for Jim to finish with his last class so they could all go eat together in a little restaurant off-campus. Dwight was invited, but he gave a vague answer about having to check on "the farm", so Pam guessed he wasn't coming. Ryan, as usual, hadn't given a straight answer, so it was a mystery as to whether he'd show up or not.

Suddenly, Kelly piped up. "What's the deal with you and Jim?"

The question threw her. "Sorry, what?"

"Like, are you two dating?" She tossed her phone to the opposite end of her bed, and stared intently into Pam's eyes. "Is it some kind of, like, friends-with-benefits deal, or-"

"No!" She interrupted, shaking her head forcefully. Kelly had to be delusional. "There's nothing. I'm dating Roy."

"Ok, cool." A smile grew on Kelly's face, and she seemed a bit shy all of a sudden. "So would it be okay with you if I ask him to hang out sometime?" She tucked a strand of dark hair behind her ear.

"Sure." Pam shrugged, trying hard not to laugh: There's no way Jim would go out on a date with Kelly. He's sweet and all, but he's just not her type.

"Great!" Kelly grinned. "I'm gonna ask him tonight, at dinner."

"Isn't Ryan coming?"

"No, I don't think so. He couldn't decide whether to go or not, so he said he'd only come if the weather was under 68 degrees. It's, like, 62, so he won't be there."

"Okay." Ryan was one of the weirdest people she had ever met.

* * *

Jim texted her as soon as he was finished with the class, telling Pam and Kelly to meet him outside the building, round the corner where he and Pam had ate lunch together the last time.

It was a rather cold evening, even though the sun was sill out, so Pam wore her pink coat and hoped it didn't look too childish.

Kelly refused to bring a jacket, insisting that that "is no way to catch a man, Pam!"

The wind was particularly biting, even for September, and Pam knew Kelly was shivering as soon as they stepped outside. Jim was waiting where he said, hands in his pockets, with his head bowed down against the wind.

"Hey," Pam called, once she and Kelly were a few feet away.

His head snapped up at the sound of her voice. Grinning, he quipped: "What took you so long?"

"Shut up," Pam scoffed at the same time as Kelly's "Sorry, Jim!"

The two exchanged a look - "what's up with her?"

"Uh, anyways." Jim gestured away, over the hill. "We should get going."

"Sure, Jim." Kelly smiled sweetly and followed him.

Pam walked further behind her friends. Kelly seemed pretty fixated on Jim, and although she knew for definite nothing would come of her asking him out, she still felt it would be nice for her to just give them some space, at least for the evening.

If Kelly noticed she was walking a few paces behind, she didn't say anything, focusing more on chattering on about her day, and whatever else came to her mind.

Jim turned round more than once, though, shooting Pam a confused sort of look - "what's wrong?". Pam just shrugged in response, and Jim got dragged back into conversation with Kelly.

* * *

Jim called a taxi as soon as they were up the hill, and shoved his hands in his pockets while they waited for it to show up.

"My feet hurt so bad." Kelly groaned, lifting a heel-clad foot in the air and twisting to inspect it. "I can't believe you guys made me walk up that hill wearing these."

Pam wanted to remind her that no one had made her wear the heels, she'd picked them out specifically "for Jim", but she kept her mouth shut.

"It's kind of cold out here." Kelly tried again to get Jim's attention, rubbing her bare arms for emphasis. When he didn't respond, she added pointedly: "I sure wish I'd brought a jacket."

Jim seemed to realise he could no longer ignore her hints without being blatantly rude, so begrudgingly he offered her his coat.

"Oh, thank you!" She gushed, making no move to accept it.

He rolled his eyes to Pam, but faked a smile to Kelly and draped the coat over her shoulders. She smiled simperingly up at him, and opened her mouth to say something else when Jim suddenly exclaimed "Taxi's here!" and stalked off.

"It's working," Kelly sing-song-ed to Pam. She didn't even seem to care whether Jim could hear her or not.

* * *

The restaurant was surprisingly nice for a cheap off-college-campus place. Pam, Kelly, and Jim had to wait around for a minute before the waiter found a suitable table. While Jim was occupied with Kelly, Pam bounced up on her tiptoes to look around.

Most of the people eating there were around college age, with odd-looking adults milling around. Pam recognised one boy from History - what's his name again? she thought, frantically. She noticed the small rainbow pride badge pinned to his teeshirt, and immediately it came to her -Oscar! He was with some boy Pam didn't know, but looked around the same age.

She turned to tell Jim about it, but realised he was still talking to Kelly, so she decided just to tell him later.

The waiter showed up again just moments later and directed them to a table on a raised area near the back - a half-booth, with two chairs on the outside. Kelly rushed to sit in the chair on the outside, dumping her purse on the chair next to her so that Jim and Pam had to sit across from her.

(As she'd confess to Pam later, it was a trick to "mimic the feeling of a real date", and would apparently make Jim more accepting of the idea of going on a proper date with her.)

Jim's knee bumped hers when he sat down. "Sorry."

"It's fine." Pam smiled, and playfully bumped her knee back against his in response.

(She ignored the surge of warmth she felt when he bumped her. It means nothing.)

Kelly folded Jim's coat over the back of her seat, and promptly opened the menu. She barely glanced at it before declaring: "I'll have a salad."

Pam raised her eyebrows, but fixated on her menu nonetheless. The food looked cheap, especially with her college discount, and she decided to order spaghetti. Jim knew what he wanted, too - a hamburger. Kelly waved the waiter over and they ordered, glad to have the rest of the time before the food arrived to just talk together.

Sensing that Kelly was about to open her mouth again, Jim quickly asked: "So, Pam, how was your day?"

"It's been good," she smiled, pushing her hair back behind her ear. "Highlight of the day was definitely History, though."

"Oh my God, yes." Jim shook his head, laughing. "Dwight was extra ridiculous today."

"Sometimes I doubt he's actually real."

"He probably isn't. He's probably like, a robot of some kind."

"With parts made in Japan." Pam joked, knowing he probably wouldn't get the reference.

"Mr. Roboto." Jim shook his head at her, grinning. "I'm disappointed, Beesly."

"It's a classic." Pam defended it, but couldn't keep a grin off her face.

"What is that, like, an 80s movie or something?" Kelly asked, having not spoken for a while.

Jim seemed a little surprised Kelly was still there, having focused so much of his attention on Pam in the last minute or so. "Uh, no, it's just some song. It's pretty awful, actually."

"Liar." Pam shoved him lightly on the shoulder. "It's the best. I'm gonna have it played at my funeral."

"Weirdo." Jim said, but grinned down at her.

Kelly saw the lull in their conversation as a chance to speak again, and directed the conversation back to whatever it was she and Jim had been talking about earlier. As she wasn't really a part of the conversation (in Kelly's eyes, at least) Pam busied herself with her phone.

Roy'd been texting her during History, and she'd ignored his texts in favour of laughing at Jim's impression of Dwight, so she answered his most recent one.

FROM: Roy Anderson

TO: Pam

u should visit at the weekend

If she was honest with herself, she truly didn't see any merit in driving all the way back home for the weekend just so that Roy could recount his drunken college days for her.

FROM: Pam

TO: Roy Anderson

Sorry, can't. There's a party on Friday night, I don't know when I'll get back to my room. It wouldn't be great for me to drive, I don't think.

She hovered her thumb over the little icon before making up her mind. Roy was miles away, and she was in college, dammit. He surely couldn't expect her to drive down every weekend just to see him for a couple of days.

(Maybe that was how most couples did long-distance. Maybe it was how she should have been doing long-distance. Of course she felt guilty for not putting 100% of the effort into the relationship, but it'd been 5 years and she was in college far away from home and the more time she spent away from him, somehow the less appealing a relationship with him seemed to be.)

Pam hesitated a moment, watching the little dots appear at the bottom of the screen to show he was typing back, and quickly tapped out:

FROM: Pam

TO: Roy Anderson

Sorry again!

She locked her phone and put it on silent, stuffing it into her pocket. Roy could wait.

"… Anyway, so Ryan and I are sort of…. Complicated right now." Kelly was finishing telling Jim some long-winded excuse about why Ryan wasn't eating with them. She flipped her hair over her shoulder, leaning her elbows on the table and rested her head in her hands.

She removed them only moments later, however, as the food had finally arrived. The waiter distributed the meals and, as was the custom, asked them all if there was anything else they would like to order at the time, and advised Jim that his plate was hot; he shouldn't touch it.

As soon as he was gone Pam tucked into her spaghetti, realising all at once that she really was quite hungry after a long day, even though they were eating dinner relatively early in the evening.

Kelly shuffled around a crouton on her plate before piping up again: "Wow, this sure is a lot of food." She laughed, although Pam knew it was fake, the type she used around Ryan. "I don't even know if I'll be able to eat all this."

It's a salad. Pam thought, privately rolling her eyes at her friend. It's not that filling. You'll probably manage. Nevertheless she kept her thoughts to herself, just looked back and forth at Kelly and Jim as they talked, most of the conversations pretty benign and ordinary, as usual.

Occasionally, as though feeling bad for her being left out, Jim would try to engage Pam in whatever (mostly one-sided) conversation he was having with Kelly, but Pam could hardly get a word in edge-wise so just retreated back to her food.

(It was sweet of him, she couldn't help but notice. He tried to never let her be left out in their group, even though she was the most ordinary and quiet one there. Even when talking to Dwight, he would always try to find a way to include her somehow.

Roy never done that, she knew. It wasn't really his fault; she tended to blend into the walls at school, and gave one-word answers when he and his friends spoke to her, when they were out. She was always nervous and a little annoyed at her boyfriend for not trying much, for not really realising she was there, with him.)

* * *

They had finished their meals and split the bill, walking out again into the cold evening. Kelly had Jim's jacket still wrapped around her shoulders - she put it on herself, as soon as they got up to leave, not really giving Jim a chance to ask for it back - and Pam pulled her coat closer to her body, shivering a little in the biting air.

The sun was about to set, and it was getting pretty dark even though it was still relatively early in the night.

Jim called a cab once again, and stood next to Pam while waiting, rather than Kelly, much to the latter girl's annoyance.

"Hey, uh…" Jim began after a few minutes, lowering his head to speak to Pam in private. "I'm sorry, if this was weird tonight. I don't know what happened, but-"

"No, it's fine." Pam waved a hand to him dismissively. "It wasn't weird. I… It was nice, I thought."

"Great," Jim said, but he seemed confused. He seemed like he was about to say something else, but the cab pulled up and was interrupted by their companion's squeal of "shotgun!"

* * *

The three walked in silence most of the way down the hill. It was pretty dark by that time, and cold enough that their breath made clouds in the air. Pam felt bad for Jim, who was clearly shivering, but they were near their building anyway and soon would be able to warm up again.

They agreed to take the elevator up, even though climbing the stairs wouldn't be too much of an inconvenience. Jim pressed the button for Pam and Kelly's floor but not his own, and walked with them down the hall to their room.

"Thanks for tonight," Kelly sighed, leaning against the door. "That was really nice for you."

(Kelly, of course, had planned the dinner and arranged it all herself.)

Jim made a confused sort of face, but went along with it. "Uh, you're welcome, I guess."

Kelly turned to Pam and shot her a pointed look, out of sight of Jim, before asking sweetly: "Pam, can I please talk to Jim in private?"

"Sure." Pam nodded, hating the way her voice stuttered a little, even with just that one little word. She gave Jim a polite sort of smile, pushed down the handle of the door, and mouthed "text me" to him before she shut the door, blocking her two friends both from sight and sound.

She grabbed a hair tie from her bedside table and tried not to think about what they were talking about, just outside her door.

(She always liked to tie her hair up before going to bed, because when she didn't, her hair looked comparable to a lion's mane when she woke up the next day. Her hair was so frizzy that she usually had to use one of those long, elasticated ties that were normally used as hair bands, as most other ties just snapped in her hair overnight.)

Her old nightie was the first thing she grabbed in her closet that even remotely resembled pyjamas, so she hurriedly threw it on, paranoid that Kelly (or even, God forbid, Jim) would burst into the room.

Thankfully that didn't happen, so Pam just sat on her bed with her legs crossed, waiting for Kelly to return so she would have a safe exit to the the bathroom across the hall.

After what seemed like hours but was probably only a matter of minutes, the door handle slowly pulled downwards and Kelly entered the room. She wasn't even looking at Pam, but she had a wide-eyed sort of look to her. Pam prepared herself to comfort her upset roommate after being rejected by their friend, and even started preparing a speech about how their incident shouldn't make anything awkward, but apparently none of that was needed.

"Pam," Kelly said softly after a moment, sounding as though she was in a daze. "He said yes!"

"I - um, I'm sorry, what?" Pam struggled to get the words out. Jim said yes to a date with Kelly?

Kelly flopped down on her bed dramatically, resting a hand over her heart. "I asked him out to lunch tomorrow, and he said yes, Pam!" She seemed to be growing more excited with each word.

"I mean, I was so smooth, you know? Like, I just asked him to lunch, and he said yes, and I didn't even scream Pam, I swear, I was so cool about it. Anyway, I was like, 'so, we should hang out' and he was like 'yeah, totally' and I can't even breathe! Oh, Pam, it was so amazing. I'm so happy!"

"That," Pam began, but it felt like the words were choking her. "Um, that's great, Kelly." She mustered up a smile.

Kelly hadn't even noticed. She was too busy braiding her hair, her fingers moving quickly and methodically.

"I'm gonna go brush my teeth, get ready for bed." Pam announced, awkwardly, standing and shoving on a pair of slippers.

"Sure." Kelly shot her a brilliant grin.

Pam rushed out the door, practically slamming it shut behind her. She crossed the hall to the bathrooms, glad that for once, no one was in there with her.

Despite her haste she had somehow managed to grab her phone. She set it down on the cold marble bunker, next to the sink but far away enough that it wouldn't get water spattered on it. She squeezed some paste onto her toothbrush and scrubbed, hard.

Her phone buzzed. Even though it was on silent, the vibrations on the marble surface echoed through the bathroom. Pam snatched it up quickly.

FROM: Jim Halpert

TO: Pam

i guess kelly's told you already?

She set it back down, finished brushing her teeth, and promptly texted back.

FROM: Pam

T O: Jim Halpert

yeah. she's really excited.

She sent it and immediately worried if her tone was too harsh, so quickly sent another one, this time more light-hearted.

FROM: Pam

TO: Jim Halpert

you really laid on the charm, didn't you?

His response was practically immediate.

FROM: Jim Halpert

TO: Pam

the halpert charm is irresistible

Pam scoffed out loud, forgetting for a moment that he couldn't hear her.

FROM: Pam

TO: Jim Halpert

yeah, right. some people are certainly immune

She took her phone and toothbrush and paste and headed back to the room, where Kelly was applying some sort of electric green face mask. She greeted her with a mere nod, as the mask was seemingly too tight to allow for any speaking.

It was only then, a couple minutes since sending the text, that Pam realised the connotation. She was immune to the Halpert charm - she'd turned him down. Would he think she was making fun of him; bragging that she'd rejected him?

FROM: Jim Halpert

T O: Pam

you mean dwight, clearly

Thank God, she thought.

* * *

 **im on school holidays now, but am going abroad soon so i might not be able to update for a few weeks :( i'll hopefully get another chapter out before then, though. :)**


	7. wise men say

**sorry about the weird formatting error(s) in the last chapter! i'll probably find time to fix it when i'm back from my holiday. i hope it didn't make it read too weird! also, sorry in** **advance if this chapter seems a little rushed. i really wanted to get this one up before leaving, as i'm going tomorrow.**

 **i finished my rewatch of the series! (the finale is so sad/nostalgic/bittersweet amiright?)**

 **title taken from: "Can't Help Falling In Love" by Twenty One Pilots (yes, i know its not their original; yes, i really like 21p and a lot of lyrics have been used already but whatevs)**

* * *

Jim's lunch with Kelly had certainly been… Interesting, to say the least. She'd asked specifically for him to show up at her room at exactly 5 minutes past 2, to knock only twice, and to wait outside the door when Kelly inevitably asked him to give her a couple extra minutes to get ready.

Apparently she hadn't briefed Pam on this, however, because she answered the door on the first knock.

She shot him a radiant smile when she realised who he was. "Hey," she greeted him, softly.

"Hey," he replied, trying to stop his grin from splitting his face wide open. He last saw her less than an hour ago, in History, but he was always glad to see her.

(Both physically and metaphorically.)

"Pam!" He heard Kelly's voice ring through the doorway. "Is that Jim? Don't let him in! Tell him to wait outside."

Pam rolled her eyes, but ushered him out. She shoved him out the door playfully, but when her hand touched his chest he felt a little thrill, and jerked away from her on instinct.

She looked a little put out for a moment, but in a split second was grinning up at him again, and she joined him outside the room.

"This date better be worth it," she joked. Jim wasn't sure where she was going with this. Could she really think he was well-suited to _Kelly?_ Was this her way of wanting to ensure their "date" went well?

"What do you mean?" It was probably better to just ask her, he reasoned.

"Kelly's been preparing for this since 10am." She explained, a serious look on her face. Jim tried not to laugh at her apparent torture. "She's been talking non-stop the whole day about how excited she is."

"Really?" He attempted a jokey tone, but deep down, he was worried.

He'd never meant for their date to actually be serious. He'd accepted her offer because he thought it would be fun, and he didn't want to disappoint her. Besides, "dating around" was practically mandatory in College, right? One date didn't necessarily have to end up in a committed relationship. It was just fun.

(If he was honest with himself, he was still a little rocked from his conversation with Pam earlier in the week. _"I'll need to ask Roy first. My boyfriend."_ Those words had haunted him since the moment she'd spoken them. Of course Pam had a boyfriend: she was great. Funny, smart, pretty, and kind… What guy wouldn't want to date her?)

"Uh, yeah." Pam laughed. "Don't panic though. She's…" She dropped her tone to a whisper, apparently worried that Kelly would overhear, even though they were on the opposite side of their door. "She's not that good at committing to things, I don't think. She's pretty infatuated with Ryan, and he's just not paying attention to her recently."

"Ryan's kind of a douche."

"I know, right?" She shook her head, and her tightly curled hair bounced up and down. Jim tried not to stare at her hair, but it always looked so pretty; it was hard not to. She had it pulled back with a black clasp, every day, and for whatever reason he found that quite endearing.

"So, uh…" Pam suddenly broke eye contact with him, staring down at her feet. "Where are you taking her?"

"Just a little coffee house, out of town. You've probably never heard of it."

"Really?" Pam frowned. "What's it called?"

He didn't even try to stop the triumphant grin that stretched across his face. "Starbucks."

"You're not funny." She rolled her eyes, but a little smile was playing at her lips.

(Not that Jim was looking at her mouth. He was just… Perceptive to these kinds of things.)

"Kelly seems to think I am."

"Watch it, or you'll become a bigger douchebag than Ryan."

Jim feigned overexaggerated hurt, and he would have felt silly (they were in a public place, after all, and anyone could walk down the hall at any time,) but doing dumb stuff like this was worth it just to see her laugh. "That hurts, Beesly. You wound me."

There was a moment, then, where Pam said nothing and just stared up at him, and it was as if time had stopped. She was so close. So close, he could see the light freckles on her nose and flecks of grey in her eyes, and he was afraid he might kiss her. He was afraid she might want him to.

"Jim, I'm ready!" Kelly slammed the door behind her and stood between them, and the moment was over, and Pam looked away.

Jim wondered how Kelly could possibly stand between them, how she didn't just burn alive with the crackling electricity that had been between them in that moment.

"You look great, Kelly." Pam said, her voice small. "I better go back inside. I've got reading to do, um, for class."

"Okay!" Kelly seemed to barely acknowledge what her roommate had said. "Me and Jim will be back… Sometime." She took Jim's arm and started to pull him away, in the direction of the stairwell, way too far away from Pam.

"Okay." Pam repeated softly. "Bye, Kelly. Bye, Jim." She stepped back into the room all too quickly, swiftly shut the door, and left Jim wondering if maybe she had felt it, too.

* * *

"How may I help you?"

"Can I have a coffee, please? Um, just a small… Milk, 2 teaspoons of sugar. Thanks."

The tired-looking server nodded and turned their attention to Kelly, awaiting her order. She only had to pause to think for a moment before ordering what was probably the most bizarre drink Jim had ever heard of.

"I'll have a half-caff half-soy latte grande with rose-scented syrup and vegan dark chocolate biscotti." She managed to get out in just a single breath. The server cast their eyes downward, sighing. "Don't skimp on the soy." Kelly added. "I'm on a diet."

"Is that all for you?" The poor guy asked.

"Yeah," Jim nodded curtly, but tried to convey his apology to the server through the small gesture.

The guy set about making the drinks, advising Kelly and Jim to "take a seat, because this is gonna be a few minutes".

Jim would have preferred to sit nearer the back, in a corner somewhere, away from all the noise and commotion and chatter coming from the other people sitting around, but Kelly insisted they sit close to the serving counter, so she could watch and ensure that no one messed up her drink.

"So, how are you?" Jim asked the back of her head.

"Good." She responded distractedly, craning her neck to see the back of the counter. "Dieting kind of sucks, though. Did I tell you I've been on a diet recently?"

"No, actually."

"Well, I am." She turned to look at him quickly, probably to check that he was still paying attention, before shifting round in her seat again to watch her drink being made. "I tried to get Pam to do it with me, to make things easier, but she said no."

"Oh?" He always listened when Pam was mentioned. He guessed it made him seem like some asshole who didn't care about anything else, but he didn't really mind.

"Yeah. And I even told her, you know, that Roy would definitely _love it_ if she did it and, like, surprised him, but…" She sighed dramatically, shaking her head. "I guess she just doesn't care enough about her physical appearance. Not as much as I do, anyway."

"I guess." He couldn't help but think to himself, _Roy should like her whether she's on some stupid diet or not._

(And he _did_ mind _that._ Those kinds of thoughts came to him far too often, and he didn't even know the guy. It was just… Pam never seemed herself when she talked about him. She was more subdued, timid, than she was before. A couple of times, when they were joking around in class, her phone would buzz and when she checked it, it was as though her mood just dulled, somehow. She'd suddenly give some excuse to stop, or pretend to take notes, or otherwise ignore him for the rest of the lesson. Roy just seemed to have that effect on her.)

"Mine's done." Kelly piped up, breaking him out of his reverie.

He guessed his would only take a minute or so, and told Kelly he was going up to pay, and he'd get hers for her.

"Thanks, Jim." She smiled at him, and he smiled back, and he found it was actually genuine.

(He knew, even at this point, that he was never going to like Kelly in the same way he liked Pam. But Kelly was still his friend, and she was ridiculous, but even Jim could see that she had a good heart.)

"Here's your coffee, and your… Half-caff, half-soy whatever."

"Thanks." He dug around in his back pocket before pulling out a slightly crumpled $10 bill, and handed it to the guy. "Just, keep the change." He added, feeling sorry for him. He grabbed the two mugs and stepped back to the table.

Kelly immediately inspected hers, and once she was satisfied with the look of it, took a tentative sip. "Hot," she remarked.

 _No kidding._ He thought, resisting the urge to roll his eyes.

"Anyway," Kelly began. She leaned her elbows onto the table and set her chin in them, gazing at Jim under her eyelashes. "How have you been?"

He saw her last night, but he answered her question without sarcasm nonetheless. "Just classes, you know, History and everything. Talking to people from back home… Nothing much, I guess."

"Pam is _always_ going on about the things you get up to in History. It sounds like you guys have a lot of fun."

Jim noted how genuinely happy she seemed for her friends. He'd been dreading the afternoon spent with Kelly, but all of a sudden this was seeming less like a _date_ and more like a relaxed lunch spent with a good friend.

"Yeah, we - uh - we do." _We._ The word caught in his throat, perhaps because of the way Kelly described he and Pam: _"you guys"_ made it seem as though they were one person, one being; together.

(He knew he was being a dumb sap, but he couldn't stop, and probably wouldn't even if he wanted to.)

* * *

They were finished and ready to go at half 3, and Jim stood at the table, shuffling his feet and waiting patiently for Kelly to bustle up her things, and they left.

To his surprise, Kelly didn't try to hold his hand or otherwise make any gestures that could seem to an onlooker even remotely romantic.

Instead, they actually just joked around, just like any good friends would do. Jim helped her into the taxi, and once they had made it back to the building and were climbing the stairs back to her floor, she even confessed to Jim: "This was a great date, and you're really nice, but… No offence, but I just con't see you in that way. You're too much of a friend to me."

He definitely wasn't upset.

They said goodbye at her door, and after only a few minutes, went their separate ways. Jim would have liked to see Pam again, as he was sure she would appreciate being filled in on what _exactly_ happened during the date, but Kelly shut the door behind her quickly, and he guessed it would have seemed pretty rude to demand to be allowed in to speak to their mutual friend about the otherwise private lunch between he and Kelly.

So he just walked back to his room, paused for a second outside (he liked to prepare himself, before being around Dwight for any amount of time), entered, and flopped down on his bed. He ignored Dwight's incessant questions about where he had been and with who, instead checking his phone.

 _FROM: Beesly_

 _TO: Jim_

 _How was it? Kelly just got back! TELL ME EVERYTHING._

* * *

 **so, this'll probably be the last chapter for at least 2 weeks (unless the hotel has miraculously good wifi, but thats doubtful.) i will be back asap with new (prewritten) chapters, as i actually have a plan for this fic. wow.**

 **guest reviews:**

 **Guest: Thanks! I hope this is okay :)**

 **rachelle: Thank you! It was a little difficult to put (most of) the characters from an adult, office workplace into a college type of setting, so I'm glad you think that!**

 **Lexie (from chapter one oh god I'm so sorry i didn't respond sooner!): Thanks! :D at first I thought it might seem a little too weird to have Jim and Dwight as roommates, but I actually think they're pretty similar in a lot of ways, even if they don't see it themselves :)**


	8. we'll run for our lives

**thanks to everyone who's reviewed so far. you're all great! :)**

 **sorry for the wait! the wifi at the hotel turned out to be even worse than i had expected :( so i had to write chapters 8 - 10 without wifi.**

 **however, with these prewritten it means i can start a posting schedule! :D from now on, a chapter will be posted every friday, unless for unforeseen circumstances i'm unable to post, in which case i'll post a message on my writing tumblr ( improbablynotwriting) or if its required, i'll post an author's note here instead of the chapter.**

 **[[ EDIT 16/7/15: I'm guessing this probably will end up being posted on a Saturday, rather than a Friday. Sorry about that! The plane journey is on Friday and it takes longer than I expected it to. Chapter 9 will definitely be posted next Friday, though! ]]**

 **ENJOY! :)**

* * *

Pam Beesly was never one to make friends very easily, but despite only having known Jim for a little while, she felt like he was her best friend. They hung out outside of class sometimes, mostly sitting in the canteen, and usually surrounded by Kelly, Ryan, and occasionally Dwight, but when he spoke to her she felt like they were in their own private world.

(He just had a way about him – maybe it was the way he tilted not only his head, but seemingly his entire body towards her when he talked to her, or maybe it was the way he mostly responded without missing a beat, never having to pause to think, or even guess what she was trying to say. He just knew, always, what she wanted to tell him.)

There was only a matter of hours left until the big party, and she couldn't wait. Whenever Jim mentioned it – which to his credit, was not too often – she felt a surge of excited-nervous energy and could hardly sit still. She felt like a kid, like when she was in middle school and daydreamed about all the fabulous parties she'd be invited to when she was in high school.

(Of course, these didn't come until much later, until she and Roy were "official" enough that people knew they had to invite the both of them, like a paired set.)

Presently, Pam was sitting in her usual seat in History, with Jim's seat lying empty beside her. He hadn't come to their table at breakfast, and a huge part of her wanted to go see if he was okay, but Ryan had been in the middle of one of his speeches about "post-post-modernism" and she'd have felt bad if she'd left. Instead, she tapped out a message to him under the table, and sent it when no one was looking.

No reply.

There was only a couple minutes until class begun, and so the normal people started to file in. The striped sweater boy, who Pam had recently learned was called Oscar, shot her a shy smile as he walked to his seat. She returned it gladly, but was still wondering where the Hell Jim could be.

Dwight arrived surprisingly late (which for him, was 2 minutes before class began) and grunted at her as he sat down. He set up his old custom-built laptop, his 3 pens (in case 2 ran out, of course) and the (still unused) notepad on his desk.

Michael Scott soon wandered into the room, and yet there was still no sign of Jim. While the professor got ready, Pam leaned over her desk and tapped Dwight on the shoulder.

He snapped around as if he were ready to fight. "Ugh, what is it? I'm busy."

Pam ignored the fact that he was doing absolutely nothing. "Have you seen Jim?"

Dwight rolled his eyes. "He slept in today, like the good-for-nothing _idiot_ that he is. I haven't seen him since then, but he's probably still asleep."

"Oh. Thanks." She slid back into her seat. Jim _never_ slept in. He said himself that it was almost impossible to sleep through Dwight's early-morning alarm, and even if he had, it was midday. Surely he couldn't have slept for _that_ long.

She set up her class materials and was just about to send him another text – _where are you?_ – when, as if on cue, he sauntered up the row and flopped down into his seat. Pam was fully aware she was grinning, but she didn't even care.

"Hey."

"Hey!"

"Where've you been?"

"I was preparing."

"Preparing for what?"

"Wait and see." He gave her a half-smirk that she could have sworn made her stomach flip, and then reached into his bag for his things as if nothing had happened.

Pam raised her eyebrows, but said nothing. If Jim was so busy "preparing" all day, then whatever he had planned had got to be good.

Mr. Scott began one of his long, rambling speeches that he always performed at the start of class, whether they had anything to do with the topic or not. Dwight, as per usual, booted up his laptop, getting ready to transcript the entire lesson.

But suddenly: " _Damnit,_ Jim!"

Jim burst into laughter beside her. She could feel his whole body shaking, just from her arm resting near his.

Curious, Pam leaned over the desk, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible so as not to attract the attention of Michael G. Scott, and was simultaneously thrilled and mortified by what she saw, on the desktop background of Dwight's computer.

Dwight's head, pasted on top of the body of a black bear, with discarded, rotten-looking beets lying all around him. There was a speech bubble coming from his head with the words: _BLACK BEARS ARE SUPERIOR_ written in multicoloured Comic Sans font. The whole picture looked terrible, but in the best way. Jim must have sneaked the picture when Dwight was yelling at him, as his face was contorted in ways that Pam never knew were naturally possible.

"What is the meaning of this?" Dwight hissed, turning around in his seat to shoot Jim a death glare.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Jim replied innocently. Almost all traces of his previous laughing fit had been wiped from his face. He was _good,_ Pam knew.

"I know it was you who did this!" Dwight was angrier than Pam had ever seen him, so she stifled her giggles in the sleeve of her sweater and pretended she wasn't following the one-sided argument like it was a tennis match.

Jim shrugged in response to Dwight's claims. Dwight, apparently realising he wasn't going to get anywhere with this debate, uttered the words: "You'll regret this," before turning back round in his seat, opening up the word processing document he used for class, and began frantically typing, trying to catch every single word that their professor said.

"Well done," Pam said, once she was sure Dwight couldn't hear.

"Thank you," Jim grinned wide, like he really meant it.

"So that's what you've been doing all day?"

"Yep," he replied gleefully, popping the _p._ He then added, somewhat bashfully, "it took me about an hour to figure out how to work Photoshop, though."

Pam smiled at his confession, though she didn't really know why. "You _have_ to let me in on this, next time."

"Seriously?" His grin was ear-splitting now, threatening to stretch right off his face and into the corners of the room.

Pam only nodded, matching his grin with her own.

"Okay, then." He nodded, once. "Good."

It felt like an alliance; a new type of connection, had been made.

* * *

"I'll meet you at 7, okay?"

"Yeah, sure." Pam replied, pulling at her sweater sleeves. They could cover her hands if she pulled hard enough, and right now, the entirety of both hands were engulfed in them.

"O—kay," he said, and the pause between the 2 syllables was too long. There was silence for a moment, but then he shot her another grin – _Halpert grins,_ as she was starting to call them – and made some excuse to leave, to go back up to his room. He "had to study", or something, she wasn't really sure, but whatever it was sounded ever so slightly fabricated.

Art History had just finished and Jim had ran into her on her way back to her room, so she continued her walk.

(She had a sneaking suspicion that their encounter hadn't been an entire accident, that perhaps Jim had been looking for her, and maybe he knew what room her AH class was in and had deliberately came to find her, to speak to her. It's just that there had been a lot of "run-ins" recently between her and Jim, and after the first 4 she decided there was no way that _all_ of them could be totally accidental.)

She eventually made it back to her room, only 5 minutes delayed. Kelly wasn't there, for once; Pam guessed she was probably with Ryan, or maybe at class. (Not that Pam knew what classes Kelly went to, or if she had any classes at all.)

The few moments of time alone in her room were a blessing, and Pam usually used them to just study in peace, without Kelly speaking constantly at a speed of probably 100mph. This particular afternoon however, she decided to make some calls.

" _Mom"_ was first on speed dial, always had been, and despite having already texted her twice during the course of the day, she tapped the little _"Call"_ icon, held the phone to her ear, and waited.

2 rings, and then an answer.

" _Hi!"_

"Hi, mom."

She settled down in her bed, comfortable with her pillow at her back and her feet under the comforter, while her mother and she exchanged pleasantries and _how-are-you-_ s. The small talk continued for a couple of minutes before her mom apparently couldn't wait any longer to hear the news.

" _So the big party's tonight, right?"_

"Uh-huh. Jim's meeting me here at 7."

" _Don't drink too much,"_ Helene warned, though Pam could sense the smile in her voice. _"Don't let that Jim coerce you into doing anything you don't want to-"_

"Mom, no!" Pam interrupted, heat rising to her cheeks. "We're not – He – He's not that type of guy." She could only hope her mother hadn't picked up on all the stuttering.

" _Well, what type of guy is he, then?"_ Pam knew in an instant that her mother had been waiting for her to slip up, waiting for the perfect moment to bring up the topic of Jim so that it would seem like Pam's idea.

She struggled to find the words. After all, she hadn't known Jim for that long. They didn't have deep conversations or anything like that, and thus she didn't know much about his true character. _How can I describe someone like that?_ She wondered.

"Jim... Jim's nice." Settled. Except, her mom probably wasn't convinced. "He's a nice guy. Friendly, you know? And he's funny. He pulled _the best_ prank on Dwight today, his roommate..."

The conversation then consisted mostly of her describing the elaborate prank Jim had pulled on Dwight earlier that day, laughing when she recalled all the planning that had went into it, all the little details Jim had explained to her when they were supposed to be listening to the lesson, how he had managed to get ahold of Dwight's laptop in the first place, and especially how it took him an hour to figure out Photoshop. (She left out the part where she drew a little cartoon of Dwight in the margin of Jim's notepad, and he added the caption: _"I'm taking this to the authorities!"_ because that felt too private; simultaneously insignificant and the best thing about that class.)

" _So... You're fond of Jim, I take it?"_

"Well, yeah, I guess. He's my friend." Pam held the phone closer to her ear. Her mom's voice had gotten quieter and more subdued ever since she first began talking about Jim.

" _You're sure he's just a friend?"_

"I'm dating Roy." Pam replied, knowing she sounded tense over the phone. "He actually said he'd call me at around this time, anyway, so I'd better go."

" _Oh."_ Helene's voice sounded a little surprised, and she had good reason to be. Both she and Pam knew that Roy was hardly the type of person to schedule or arrange anything, let alone a short phone call. _"Well, bye, honey."_

"Bye, mom." Pam faked a smile, hoping it would transfer through her voice. It didn't. "I'll text you tomorrow."

Her mom replied with a final request to tell her all about how the party went, half-jokingly told her to _"be safe"_ one last time, said goodbye again, and hung up.

The conversation had her thinking. The last time she had spoken to Roy had to have been at least 2 days ago, when he had mistakenly texted her instead of a friend and she had used the opportunity to ask him how community college was going so far. (In his words: _"It's basically high school, just with half the gang missing."_ )

She did feel kind of bad, not even thinking to call or text him at all. She'd only called him once, on her second day, and had hung up abruptly when he tried to convince her into phone sex.

So she dialled his number from the _recent contacts_ list and waited the usual 6 rings before he finally answered.

" _Heeeeeeeey,"_ He said, dragging it out way longer than was necessary, making Pam wonder if he was drunk already.

"Hey," she replied, softly.

There was a pause on the end, a moment of quiet, and Pam guessed he was perhaps moving away from whatever crowd he was with currently into a more private space. Suddenly there was a _whoosh,_ the kind of noise phones always make when they're being hurriedly picked up, and she could hear Roy's breathing again. _"What's this for?"_

"Nothing. I just thought I'd call." Why was this so awkward? She had no idea what to say to him. "Um, how are you?"

" _Great! I'm doing... I'm really great."_ His voice lowered. _"Hey, if you wanna do this, just gimme some time to get somewhere quieter, I can totally make time for a quickie..."_

"Roy, no." She sighed into the phone, not caring if she came across as exasperated as she felt. _What is wrong with him?_

" _Oh. It's not like that?"_

"It's not like that." She repeated, firmly so that maybe he would actually understand, this time.

" _Uh, wait a second, then. We can Skype – I've got another hour or so before have to meet the guys for drinks."_ He paused for a second, and Pam guessed from all the noise that he had started walking somewhere. _"There's an empty class just down here..."_

There were a couple minutes of silence, cut only by Roy's laboured breathing down the phone. Pam was suddenly reminded of how much she hated that – he always held the phone too close to his mouth, and it just wasn't pleasant to hear his heavy breathing all the time.

She hadn't really planned on Skyping him, but since he had suggested it she figured it wouldn't hurt to just go along with it. So she booted up her old PC laptop on the desk, opened Skype, and asked down the phone: "Ready yet?"

There was a _click_ ing sound of a lock and the _thud_ that she supposed was a door, and then Roy confirmed he was ready, and hung up.

Seconds later, the option popped up for a call pending.

 _Accept_

" _Hey, babe!"_ Roy's face materialised on her screen. His eyes were slightly crossed, and his voice a little slurred. Pam guessed he'd been drinking a bit before she called.

"Hey," she said again, as if the previous phone call hadn't happened. "How are you?"

" _Good. A little tipsy. Uh, how are you?"_ He looked as if he was staring at something just above his phone screen, craning his neck slightly. Pam knew he was probably staring out the classroom's window, watching his friends stumble off to the bar, wishing he was with them.

"Great." She replied, and her voice came out clipped. "So how're your classes?"

" _Awesome. Total skive, like, the teachers don't even care if you show up or not. It's amazing."_

She wasn't even sure what Roy _did_ in College, other than the fact that he'd already changed his classes twice so far. She waited for him to ask her how _her_ classes were going, but he didn't, just kept staring at that spot above the screen.

"School's good so far. Classes are fine. I think my favourite is probably History actually, not Art, even though we don't do much work there." She launched into talking about her classes, about all the interesting people there; like Phyllis, who could finally go to College thanks to Bob Vance of Vance Refrigeration; and Kelly, who was sweet if a little talkative; and all the professors, especially the one-and-only Michael Scott.

Roy nodded along, grinning at the appropriate parts, but Pam still felt as though he wasn't really listening. That is, until she mentioned Jim.

" _Jim?"_ Roy seemed to finally be paying attention. He looked straight into his camera lens, and the angry expression on his face filled up Pam's screen. _"That's a guys' name, though."_

"Yeah." His manner at this point made her uneasy.

" _And you're saying he's a_ friend? _"_

"I can have guy friends, Roy." A rare act of defiance – she usually hated confrontation, especially with Roy, and avoided any areas that could be cause for conflict.

" _What, is he like, gay or something?"_ At his girlfriend's raised eyebrows, he added hastily: _"Not that that's bad, or anything."_

"No, Roy. Anyway, he's nice. He's just a friend, a good friend."

" _What's his full name?"_

Pam rolled her eyes. "Don't go looking him up. It doesn't matter. Can't we just talk about something else?"

" _No, I know. I just want his name so I can... Uh, ask the guys if they know him. Check him out and everything."_

It was clearly a lie, and a terrible one at that, but Pam knew he would just keep on asking until she gave in, so she decided to spare him the trouble. "Halpert."

" _Cool, cool."_

The conversation quickly went on to another topic after that, and soon enough, it felt just like old times. It was as if they were back in high school again; comfortable, with Roy doing most of the talking and Pam laughing along with him.

* * *

There was a knock at the door: smart, 2 raps, and then another, quick one, as if the knocker was nervous or something.

" _Who's that?"_ Roy asked, interrupting his own story of the bar fight he had witnessed the previous night.

Pam checked her watch. 18:47, so surely Jim couldn't be there already. "I'll go check, just a second." She got up from her desk chair (with some difficulty, having been sat there for almost an hour) and padded to the door, barefoot. She swung it open, only to find Jim Halpert, fiddling with a thread on the grey sweatshirt he had on.

"Oh, hi!" He said, startled, as if he hadn't expected to see her at the door to her own room. "Sorry I'm early, just, Dwight kicked me out 'cause he's expecting someone, and I just figured..."

"No, it's okay. Only, I'm not really dressed yet." She had only planned on wearing a shirt and her best pair of jeans, but had een hoping that Kelly would be back in time to help her with her hair.

"Oh, okay. I'll go, come back in like, 15 minutes or something?"

"No! No, it's alright. I'll just be 2 secs."

Jim turned in his tracks, shutting the door behind him. Pam whipped back over to her desk, shut the lid of her computer (despite Roy's desperate pleas of _"you don't have to, it's not like I haven't seen you like this before"_ ) and grabbed her jeans, carefully laid out on her bed, and the purple blouse she had set over her chair.

She involuntarily cursed, more times than she would care to admit, rushing to pull on the jeans, and stuck her head through one of the arm-holes of her blouse before finally getting it the right way. When she checked in the mirror, she looked alright, except she had wanted to spend more time on her makeup and hair, but knew that this would have to do. Her hair was totally loose around her shoulders, but her black clip she had used during the course of the day to pin it back had vanished, and she didn't want to keep Jim waiting for too long.

"Come in!" She called, and the door shuffled open.

Jim apparently didn't know where to stand, so just leaned against the (now closed) door, running one hand through his hair.

"I just need to grab my purse." She assured him. She did as she said (a bright blue purse she'd had since she was about 16 and didn't exactly go with her outfit) and went to follow him out the door, before realising that her laptop had been left on.

She rushed over and snapped it open. Roy hadn't disconnected yet, and stared at Jim with narrowing, distrustful eyes.

" _Who the Hell's that?"_

Pam instinctively backed away from the computer. "Jim. We're going to his cousin's party." When Roy didn't make any move to disconnect, she added pointedly: "Right now."

" _You never told me about a party."_ He had a sullen look on his face, now, as if was getting angry and (unsuccessfully) trying to hide it.

"I'm pretty sure I mentioned it." A huge understatement. Pam knew she'd already talked this over with him, twice.

" _So this is Halpert."_

Jim shot him an awkward smile. "Hey. Roy, isn't it?"

" _Pam's boyfriend, yeah."_

Jim looked away, his gaze fixed pointedly on a spot on Kelly's wall, but when Pam checked, his eyes were far away, not really taking in anything.

"Roy, we have to go."

" _Halpert!"_

Jim's eyes snapped back to the laptop screen, and he stood up straight, as if being addressed by an army major.

" _Take care of Pammie. Don't try anything."_

"Um, I will and I won't." The joke was weak, and he averted his eyes to the floor once more.

" _Pam'll tell me all about it,"_ Roy began, staring right at the other boy. (Or as best he could, considering he was staring into a phone screen.) _"So don't even think of-"_

"Roy," Pam cut him off, firmly. "Everything'll be fine. We need to go now."

" _Okay, okay. See you later, babe."_

Pam knew he probably wouldn't. "See you later."

Roy hung up before she got the chance to, and so she shut the laptop once more, firmly this time.

"I'm ready. Let's go!"

Jim gave her a trademark grin, but something about it just seemed forced. Together, they left the room. Pam locked the door, knowing Kelly had a key, and then started her determined stride down the hall.

She couldn't wait.

* * *

 **title taken from: "Run" by Snow Patrol :)**


	9. sullen load is full

**here's chapter 9 as promised! it was originally going to be a lot longer than this but i decided to split it into two chapters so it wouldn't be overly long and stretched out. :)**

* * *

Pam had been walking for a while ahead of him with an almost scary look of determination on her face. Jim had to jog a little down the hall before he finally could match her strides.

"You okay?" He asked her, an uneasy feeling settling in his chest. He hoped Pam wasn't going to stay this way during the evening - angry and defiant and so very un-Pam-like.

"Yep." She didn't look his way.

"Okay."

They walked in silence for a minute or so, and Pam pushed the button for the elevator with a little more force than was entirely necessary. When the elevator finally came and the doors _dinged_ open, Jim (rather pointlessly, since Pam was already stepping in,) politely said: "After you."

He followed her in and stared straight ahead until he could feel her eyes boring into his shoulder, at which point he snuck a glance to her out of the corner of his eye. She was chewing on her bottom lip, and her fists were clenched at her sides.

He knew this wasn't the type of thing he should have been thinking about in that moment, but he couldn't help but notice just how pretty she was. He had never seen her with her hair down before. It looked bigger than when it was just pinned back, framing her face and making her take up slightly more space than she usually did. It looked cute and definitely suited her, although he could see why she had in pinned back during the day.

"I'm sorry." Her small, familiar voice broke the silence. Had she caught him looking? If she had, she didn't seem to mind.

"It's okay." He didn't really know what else to say, because it _was_ just okay. Everything was _okay_ with her.

When he met her eyes, she gave him a _yeah, right_ sort of look. "Just, Roy's been acting terrible recently."

Jim wondered what she meant by "recently." From what he'd seen and heard of Roy (even from old high school anecdotes that Pam had shared) it seemed as though that was just the type of person he was. He couldn't imagine he had changed so drastically since he and Pam graduated.

Instead of telling her that, however, he replied soothingly: "It's probably just stress from school."

"He barely goes to school," Pam scoffed. "He's out drinking practically every night."

"Some people do that at the beginning of college. He'll grow out of it."

Pam sighed and twisted her mouth as if to say, _maybe._

"I'd probably be out doing that every night, if I had any friends other than you and Kelly." The joke was pretty lame, but at least it made her laugh.

(To Jim, that was all that really mattered.)

"Don't forget Dwight."

"Yeah, I'm sure Dwight would _love_ to go on a guy's night out with me." He retorted drily. "Especially after class today."

Pam cracked up at the memory, and before long Jim was laughing along, too, and it was like the storm following her around since they left had been lifted.

LINE BREAKKKKKKKKK

"Sorry it's kind of messy." Jim suddenly wondered why he hadn't thought beforehand to clean up his car a little. He hurriedly bent to pick up an empty soda bottle lying on the passengers' seat.

"You should see my car," Pam climbed into the passenger seat, buckling up the seatbelt. "Or Roy's," she added, faking a shudder.

Jim hopped round to the other side of the car, and swung open the door to get into the drivers' seat. Once he had his belt fastened, he started up the old car. It emanated a satisfying rumble, and finally, they were away.

The drive was mostly back roads for a little while, closed in on both sides by huge clumps of forest.

"This is your cousin's party, right?" Pam spoke up.

"Yeah. it's his boyfriend's birthday today."

Pam twisted a lock of hair around her two fingers, shooting glances at Jim out of the corner of her eye probably every 5 seconds. When she had finally worked up the courage, she asked in a timid voice: "Is there going to be, y'know, alcohol there?"

"Yeah," Jim replied slowly. He hoped this wouldn't scare her away. "You don't have to drink if you don't want to. I'll tell the guys to lay off, if you want. It's okay."

"No, that's fine. I was just hoping you weren't joking before, when you said I could get _"totally wasted"."_

"Is that your plan, Beesly?" He kept up the joking tone, but was actually worried about her. Was this because of her argument with Roy?

"Maybe." She shot him a sly grin, and said nothing more on the matter.

LIIIINNNNEEEE BBBBBRRRREEEEEAAAAKKKK

They arrived at Jim's cousin's house around quarter past. Jim turned the engine off and hurried round to Pam's side of the car to open the door for her. She smiled shyly to him in return, and his heart felt like it was being lifted out of his chest.

Music was already blaring, mostly current songs, and shouts of laughter could be heard all the way to the outside of the house.

Jim knocked on the door 3 times, loudly, and stepped down onto the bottom stair while they waited for someone to come to the door.

After only a short while, the door was flung open. The man on the other side looked like he was in his early twenties, with red scruffy hair and a lopsided-looking face, indicating he was drunk already.

"Matt!" Jim greeted, reaching out to shake his hand.

Matt squinted at him for a second, then apparently realised who he was. "Jimbo!" He cried, pulling Jim in by his outstretched hand for a bone-crushing hug.

"Hey, man." Jim struggled to get out of his grasp. He shot a look to Pam, standing next to him, over his shoulder. She only mouthed the word _"Jimbo?"_ to him, shaking her head with a bemused expression.

Matt finally let him go, giving Jim the chance to with him a happy birthday. Pam followed suit, admittedly a little timidly.

Matt thanked them both and ushered them into a cramped hallway. There was a couple of people milling about, but it seemed that most of them would be in the living room and kitchen.

"Rick!" Matt called into the throng of people in the living room. "Jimmy's here!"

"James Halpert!" Rick pushed his way through the crowd until he was standing directly in front of Jim and Pam. He was a little shorter than his boyfriend, with a mess of dark, curly hair and deep brown eyes. "How're you doing?"

"Good, thanks." He had to shout over the loud, pulsing music. "You?"

"Absolutely fan-fucking-tastic!" His voice sounded hoarse, as if he'd been screaming a lot. He nodded to Pam, who presently was wearing a nervous smile. "This your girlfriend? Dawn or something like that, right?"

"Pam." She introduced herself. Rick returned her smile with a huge grin of his own.

"You did well, bro." He shoved Jim lightly in the shoulder. "I mean, even I can see that, and I'm gay as Hell."

Jim quickly cut in, shaking his head hard. "She's not my girlfriend. We're just good friends."

"Really?" Rick looked confused, but rolled his eyes. "Whatever, man. Wait here just a minute, I'll get you guys some drinks."

Rick disappeared back into the crowd, and Matt soon followed, leaving Jim and Pam alone.

"Uh, sorry about all that." Jim began, instinctively running a hand through his hair. "He's really out of it right now. He's not usually that… Rude."

"It's okay." Pam grinned. "You didn't have to be so defensive, though."

 _Is Pam Beesly flirting with me?_ Jim opened his mouth to speak but didn't even know what he was going to say, so he quickly clamped it shut again, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

"I have drinks! Nectar!" Bellowed Rick before he was even visible to Jim and Pam. He appeared moments later, carrying 2 disposable red paper cups full of some sort of drink. He handed the first to Jim, and the second, a slightly lighter-coloured concoction, to Pam. "Only the best for the non-girlfriend," he explained, winking indiscreetly at Jim.

"Thanks." They replied in unison.

Rick, finally satisfied, nodded firmly before rushing back into the crowd of people standing in the kitchen.

Jim sipped from his cup cautiously. It was definitely mixed, but he wasn't certain what type or even how many drinks had been added to it.

"You don't have to drink that." He addressed Pam, who had been staring into her cup for the past few seconds. "It's a mix, and I'm not even sure what's in it, so-"

"Great." Pam lifted the cup to her lips. She chugged at least half of the contents in one go, wincing when she finished.

Jim was at a total loss of what to say. His jaw felt slack, and he quickly reached to set his drink down on a nearby table - there was no way he could drink tonight, if Pam was going to keep this up. Roy's words swam back to the front of his mind: _"take care of Pammie"_ , and knew that if they both were to survive this night, he had to stay completely sober.

"It's kinda sour." Pam mused, breaking Jim from his reverie. "Strong, though." She took another long drink, until it was just dregs left over in the bottom of the cup. "Nice."

Her words hadn't began to slur together yet. Jim hoped that maybe she wouldn't got through with whatever plan she had hatched, and instead just relax a little.

LLLLIIINNE BREAKKKKKKA

"This girl - This girl right he-herrre-" Slurred Matt, slinging an arm around Pam, who was nodding very seriously to his speech despite her drunken state. "This girl… She's just, she's just the _queen bitch,_ man. Just inc… Incredibllllllee."

Pam let out a _whoop_ of excitement, the expression on her face a mixture of pure delight at her new title and irrational anger at whatever was going on in her mind.

"I name thee…" Matt began, swaying and almost falling off the makeshift stage (two couches, pushed together). "I give thou the award -" he paused for a moment to belch loudly. Pam was pretty unfazed about it, bursting into a fit of giggles. "Oh, shit, man! Your shoes are suuuuper white. I change your - _thee's_ \- award. I grant thee the award of…" He stopped, presumably for dramatic effect. "Whitest tennis shoes!"

 _"YES!"_ Pam screamed at the top of her lungs, making Jim laugh despite himself. He had been watching the tire scene play out from his spot against the wall. At some point during the night, Matt had decided to give everyone at the party "awards" for trivial things. (Jim had been granted the award of "best grey sweatshirt".) Jim knew hardly anyone would remember any of this tomorrow, but it would be a good thing to bring up the next time he saw him.

Pam struggled out from Matt's celebratory hug and made a feeling to Jim. He grinned at her, but the look on her face was one of sheer determination.

"Well done, Beesly, that's qui-" He was unable to finish his sentence. Pam had launched herself at him, and with her arms around his neck the words simply wouldn't come anymore.

And suddenly Pam's mouth was crashing against his.

Jim's heart went into overdrive. It felt like it was hammering against his ribcage at a speed that definitely was not healthy. He wondered if she could hear it, even over the music (he wouldn't have been surprised, honestly), and then he stopped wondering things because _holy shit,_ her hands had found his hair and she was practically pulling his head down to be closer to her.

The kiss was sloppy and warm, and she tasted strongly of all different kinds of alcohol, and just as the thought came into his head that she wouldn't even remember this in the morning, and he really shouldn't be kissing a girl like this when she was _that drunk,_ her lips were gone.

It really couldn't have lasted more than 5 seconds at a stretch, but to Jim it had been centuries. Pam pulled back, grinning. Her triumphant-looking face swam into focus as Jim recovered from the dizzy spell he'd been suffering under ever since she had first came over to him.

"Whitest tennis shoes!"

"I know!" He feigned happiness for her. When he saw her, _really_ saw her, she had fuzzy eyes and a slack-looking jaw, and Jim realised that she was completely out of it. He felt like he'd failed her or something. She'd had way too much to drink. The kiss - if you could even call it that; if Pam was even fully conscious of what she had done - should never have happened.

 _She has a boyfriend, Halpert._

Pam skipped over to the mini-bar, where one of Rick's college friends was making drinks. Jim couldn't even hear what she had ordered, but she was handed a bright red liquid with ice floating on top. She thanked the bartender before closing in on Jim again.

"Maybe we should get out of here." Jim suggested meekly. It was past midnight, after all.

"Whaaaaat?"

Jim didn't even know whether her confusion was a result of not hearing him over the music or not understanding what he meant.

"I think we should go," he tried again, jerking his head towards the direction of the front door.

"Wait 'til I finish this driiink." Without waiting for him to reply, she downed the entire glass, and spat out a couple of ice cubes afterwards.

"Can we go now?"

"No, no, no, no, no, 'cause then ice cubes melt and then it's like, it's like, it's a second drink!"

"Second drink?" Jim asked bemusedly, grinning once again.

Pam nodded and carefully chewed on a smaller ice cube she'd picked out of the glass with her fingers. After a moment of solemn crunching, she asked feebly: "Are you mad at me?"

When he looked into her eyes, she didn't seem half as drunk as she had before. Her eyes were wide, her lips slightly parted, but none of that had anything to do with the drinking.

"Why would you think that?"

"Because I got really drunk, because my boyfriend was super mean to you, because I kissed you, because I'm not leaving right now…" She listed them off with her fingers.

He decided to address the most important thing first. "I don't care that you kissed me," he replied, honestly. "I mean, I'd have appreciated some warning first, but…" He laughed, too awkwardly, and scrubbed a hand over his hair.

Pam didn't laugh with him, instead, she shook her head. "I didn't mean to…" She scrunched up her face as if thinking hard, until a sheepish expression came over her. "I did mean to," she admitted, as if only just having found that out, herself.

Jim's heart was beating fast again. _She meant to kiss me? Why is she saying that? It's not true. She has a boyfriend._

"I think we'd better get you home." The words came out a little strangled, although Pam didn't seem to mind that, nor the fact that he hadn't addressed her previous statement.

She nodded with her head to the floor, and followed Jim on his path through the small crowds of people to the front door. He called out to Rick and Matt that they were leaving, but was out the door before they could shout their goodbyes back. Pam stepped out, ducking her head to get under his arm, and Jim stood down after her, letting the door slam shut.

The noise from inside suddenly became muted, like they had just plunged underwater.

Pam reached out her hand, with pleading eyes.

Jim held her hand in his, and she walked behind him to the car. She didn't let go until she was sat in her seat, but even then watched Jim dolefully through the windscreen until he had gotten into the seat next to her.

The car rumbled into life. Jim pulled out of the narrow parking space and started onto the motorway. He stared straight ahead for the most part, but could feel Pam's eyes boring into the side of his neck for the rest of the drive.

* * *

 **title taken from: "Skinny Love" by Bon Iver**

 **this was meant to be sort of like "The Dundies" in S2. also, kudos to anyone who gets the UK Office reference! ;)**


	10. the calculation

**thanks to everyone who's been reading so far! you guys are the best :)**

 **title taken from: "The** **Calculation" by Regina Spektor**

* * *

"We're here." Jim announced as the car slowed to a stop in the parking lot near the Dunder-Mifflin building. He guessed Pam didn't really need to be told, because despite the fact that it was almost 2 in the morning and she also was incredibly drunk, she had managed to stay awake the whole drive back.

She didn't reply to him, not that he really had expected her to.

He got out of his side of the car and rushed round to the passenger side to get the door for her, once again. She shot him a grateful smile and hopped out, but immediately staggered.

"I know this is - a lot…" She began, carefully. "But would you mind walking me back to the room? I just don't really trust my legs at the moment."

"No problem." He offered his arm and she took it, using it mostly as a prop to keep herself upright during the short walk over the gravel to the building's main entrance.

"I'm sorry for getting so drunk." She said quietly, breaking the silence. The had just came through the entrance doors, and Jim had pressed the button to call the elevator down.

"It's fine," he replied, his voice just as soft.

Pam gazed at him for a moment, in silence, until the elevator doors _dinged_ open. They trudged into the small, stuffy space.

"You're definitely okay though, right?"

"Health wise?"

Jim nodded.

She sighed out a confirmation, but wanted to say more. "I guess the fight with Roy just made me all… Crazy." She laughed humourlessly, nervously. "I mean…"

"Seriously, it's fine." Jim assured her when it became clear that she had no intention to finish what she had been trying to say. "I don't mind. Just as long as you're okay."

"Why can't all guys be like you?"

The question surprised him, but he guessed it was rhetorical, so he said nothing in return.

Pam took it as her opportunity to continue. She fiddled with her necklace as she spoke. "Roy, he never… He just doesn't listen, sometimes. He used to be great, and now…" She trailed off.

"I'm sure Roy cares about you, a lot."

"Ugh, you don't know Roy. He's just so… I mean, it's whatever." She shook her head, indicating that the one-sided conversation about her boyfriend was over.

The elevator chose that time to finally reach Pam's floor, and so they both stepped out into the dimly-lit hallway. She took Jim's proffered arm once more and they walked the short distance to Pam's room.

"Thanks for everything."

"No problem."

"I guess we should say goodnight, then?"

"Goodnight."

"'Night, Jim." She leaned up on her tiptoes and planted a kiss on his cheek. Jim wasn't sure whether to be glad or disappointed that she hadn't properly kissed him again.

* * *

 **this one was pretty short i know, but it just made more sense to leave it here. next chapter is longer though, don't worry. :)**


	11. i'll be the one to hold your torch again

**can't believe we're past 20k words AND 10 chapters already! wow. thanks for the continued reviews and follows/favourites and even views; without them i probably wouldn't still be writing this.**

 **title taken from: "Pride" by Amy MacDonald :)**

* * *

Pam slept through both her alarm and the extra 10 minutes _snooze_ time she allowed herself, and by the time she finally woke up it was almost 11:30 and she knew she had missed breakfast.

Her head hurt like hell, and her mouth felt dry, like cotton. Her roommate was gone, but had apparently left her a large bottle of water and some aspirin on her desk. At the moment, she really wasn't in any mood to move, but despite this, she grit her teeth and struggled up into a sitting position. She stretched out an arm to grab the water, uncapping it with an alarming amount of difficulty, and took a few grateful gulps. It wasn't doing anything for her headache, but at least her mouth felt less like she'd been wandering in the Sahara for weeks, and more like she'd been chewing sandpaper, which in the current circumstances was a great improvement.

She took the aspirin immediately after, and made a mental note to thank Kelly for her efforts, but soon just retired back to her previous lying position in bed, and allowed herself to sink back into the pillows.

What had even happened the night before? She couldn't remember much. All she knew for sure was that she was mad at Roy for, well, being the way he was, and that her only goal for that night was to get as drunk as possible.

Oh, how she regretted that decision.

Perhaps the strangest recollection she had about the party was the general /feeling/ she had when she tried to remember what had happened: she felt as though she had kissed someone. But her boyfriend hadn't been at the party.

She racked her brain fruitlessly, trying desperately to _just remember;_ remember what happened the previous night, remember any potentially embarrassing things she may have done or said, remember who on Earth she could have kissed…

Jim was the only person she knew who was there, but surely not-

 _Shit._

She'd kissed her best friend while she was drunk.

* * *

"Hey, do you know where Pam is?" Jim stopped Kelly on her way to the canteen, where she was supposedly meeting Ryan. "She wasn't at lunch, and she never skips lunch."

"Last time I saw, she was asleep. From the state she was in when you dropped her off last night, she'll definitely have a major hangover. I left her some water and aspirin, but she hadn't touched them when I left."

"Thanks," Jim replied, feeling deflated. He couldn't believe he'd let Pam, his _friend_ , get so drunk. Especially after he had promised her (admittedly awful) boyfriend that he would take care of her.

Kelly smiled in response to his politeness, and disappeared into the canteen. Meanwhile, Jim wondered if it would seem weird if he texted Pam for the 5th time that day.

* * *

When she turned her phone on, Pam had 7 unread texts.

 _FROM: Roy Anderson_

 _TO: Pam_

 _hows the party goin?_

 _FROM: Kelly Kapoor_

 _TO: Pam_

 _left u some water + aspirin! text when u feeling better, we're worried :(_

 _FROM: Jim Halpert_

 _TO: Pam_

 _hope you're alright after last night. kelly didn't show up to breakfast, so me, dwight, and ryan had some quality awkward bonding time._

 _FROM: Jim Halpert_

 _TO: Pam_

 _text when you wake up? we're all pretty worried. even dwight is concerned._

 _FROM: Jim Halpert_

 _TO: Pam_

 _dwight thinks you might have malaria. i'd get that checked out if i were you… dwight's usually right about these things. he wants to put you in quarantine, btw_

 _FROM: Jim Halpert_

 _TO: Pam_

 _i hope you feel better soon. i think i am going insane being surrounded mostly by dwight all day. i'm beginning to consider a career in beet farming. SEND HELP._

 _FROM: Kelly Kapoor_

 _TO: Pam_

 _jim's askign about u! HE is VERY worried and wont stop talking + its a little annoying so pls text him back or w/e_

She caught herself grinning when she read about Dwight's antics, but soon the guilt started to creep in. They all seemed pretty worried about her, and she didn't really blame them - she knew she didn't usually seem like the type of person to sleep in until the afternoon after getting too drunk on a night out.

Roy's text surprised her - she hadn't expected him to remember that she was even going out, and even then, she didn't think he would have texted unless he thought something interesting was going on. The way he had composed the text sounded desperate, however, as if he wanted an immediate response, so she considered it a small victory that she hadn't replied sooner; had kept him in turmoil for a little while, at least.

Jim seemed to be acting normal in the texts, and she definitely was glad of _that._ He was acting like whatever happened the previous night - the kiss, whatever that meant - hadn't happened. She wondered whether this was because he assumed she wouldn't remember it, or because he didn't consider it to be significant.

(She hoped it was the former.)

She decided to reply to Kelly first, as she was her roommate and probably the person most impacted by her virtual absence.

 _FROM: Pam_

 _TO: Kelly Kapoor_

 _hey, just woke up. thanks for the water and aspirin, it's helped a lot. sorry to worry you!_

The little blue _sending_ bar had just finished its path across the top of the screen when her phone vibrated in her hand, showing yet another text had came in.

 _FROM: Jim Halpert_

 _TO: Pam_

 _we're all kinda worried about you right now, so if you're awake then can you please text back? even kelly's getting a little concerned._

No sooner than she had finished reading it had another one came in.

 _FROM: Jim Halpert_

 _TO: Pam_

 _ps. i'm really sorry about everything that happened last night. i should have taken care of you. i hope you're not mad at me._

She frowned at his latest text. How could he think she was mad at him? She could never be mad at him. The thought of being mad at him, or simply angry at something he did or said, was just inconceivable. Her thumbs tapped out a message back almost instantly.

 _FROM: Pam_

 _TO: Jim Halpert_

 _sorry i didn't reply sooner, i just woke up. i'm really sorry everyone was so worried about me! i'm fine. killer headache, but i guess i chose this punishment last night. sorry to abandon you with dwight and ryan. :(_

It was a little impersonal in comparison to the texts he had sent, but it would have to do.

She had almost forgotten about Roy, and once she remembered was still in no hurry to reply to him. Eventually she managed to compose a suitable message, entailing vague details about the party and leaving out almost everything else.

* * *

Jim grinned when he saw Pam had replied, finally. He missed her, even though it had been less than a day since he last saw her. It sucked, having to hang around with Dwight, Ryan, and Kelly all day without Pam to share glances and sarcastic remarks with.

(They were best friends, right? It was purely natural to feel that way about your best friend being gone for a while.)

 _FROM: Jim_

 _TO: Beesly_

 _good to know you're okay. and i forgive you for your heinous crimes - but theres so much i need to tell you. being with dwight and ryan is like being in another world. seriously._

* * *

 **next chapter: THREAT LEVEL MIDNIGHT. ;))**


	12. secrets from our american dreams

**thank you for the reviews, reads, and favourites/follows! :D**

 **title taken from: "Hero" by Family Of The Year :)**

* * *

"Have you noticed that Mr. Scott's been hanging up casting audition posters round the halls?"

"You're not serious."

"Dead serious. There's one just outside the canteen, if you want proof."

"Sure." Pam granted him her signature grin before standing up from her stool and flouncing out the canteen door.

Jim walked slightly behind, unable to stop his own grin from forming.

(It had been a week since the fateful party, and of course, neither of them had mentioned it since. He couldn't really say he was surprised - Pam was great, but she didn't seem like the type of person to confront important things head-on. Jim knew she was more of a people-pleaser; that she tended to put others first.)

"I cannot believe this." Her laugh broke his from his thoughts.

Pam stared up at him, giggling and shaking her head. Her curls bounced around, but Jim certainly did not notice that.

"Believe it, Beesly. Great Scott Productions is creating a movie."

"Do you think there's actually anyone else on his production team?"

"Um…" He pretended to think for a moment, before saying matter-of-factly: "Absolutely not."

Pam squinted at the small, black-and-white poster, apparently reading the details. "Threat Level Midnight. Looks like it's a spy thriller, or something. He's asking for anyone to audition; seems like there's a variety of parts."

"We should audition."

"Oh my God," Pam scoffed. "No. Never."

"It could be fun," he tried to persuade her. If they both auditioned, it would buy him at least another half hour of time with her. "Who knows, we might even run into Dwight."

"He'll be auditioning for the Bond girl character, definitely."

"Ah, yes."

Pam sighed. "This is kinda sad. I don't think anyone's gonna show up."

"Which is exactly why we should go."

Pam raised an eyebrow, but finally conceded. "Okay, fine, fine. But only because it'll get me out Kelly's daily hour-long Ryan session."

* * *

They met outside Scott's classroom - although the posters called it his "office" - 5 minutes later than they were supposed to, but since there was nobody else waiting, Jim guessed it didn't really matter. He held the door open and they both walked in, unsure of what exactly to expect.

As it turned out, Dwight was, in fact, there. A group of blue plastic lab chairs were sat in a circle in the middle of the room, with Scott at the head and Dwight sitting in the chair beside him, practically crawling into his lap with how close he was.

"Are the auditions still going on?" Pam broke the silence.

Scott looked up from the clipboard in his hands and seemed shocked to see them standing there. "No, no! Still going. Still going strong. Strong like a ship, like a friendship, like…" He shook his head, thankfully stopping himself from rambling for any longer. "We've had few good auditions so far, so there's a little competition. I hope you can handle it."

"I think we can." Jim answered, trying not to laugh at the absurdity of it all.

"You think?" Dwight piped up, intently giving Jim the once-over. "Or do you know?"

"I think."

"Anyway!" Scott called, interrupting Dwight from whatever he was going to say next. "Mr. Halpert and Mrs. Beesly…"

"Oh, actually I'm not mar-" Pam began, but Scott just talked over her.

"Is it okay if I call you guys James and Pamela? I just feel like that sounds more friendly, you know. It sets the mood a little better."

"Sure."

"Good! We can get going, finally." He turned to Dwight, stage-whispering for him to "retrieve the actors the scripts." Dwight somehow understood what he meant, and handed Jim and Pam a stack of paper each.

"The whole script," Pam whispered, gleefully. Jim only nodded in response.

"Take a seat." Scott gestured to the seats next to him, but Jim and Pam chose to sit as far away from Dwight and their professor as possible.

"So, James can read the part of Goldenface." Scott began, seemingly thinking hard about the process of the script-reading. "And Mrs. Pamela… You will be reading for the part of Catherine Zeta Jones."

Jim shot her a raised-eyebrow kind of look: _is he for real?_

"I will be reading the action commentary, as well as Agent Michael Scarn, and Dwight… Dwight will be reading the role of Samuel L. Chang."

"Thank you, sir."

Dwight nodded curtly to Pam and Jim before flicking to the first real page of the script, a good 10 or so pages in due to the "ideal cast list", drawings, and terrible photoshop creations at the beginning.

"Agent Michael Scarn is sitting in his office with his feet propped up on the desk, as Catherine Zeta Jones enters…"

* * *

"So, do you think we got the parts?"

"Maybe. I think Dwight was very professional when reading for his role, though."

"Mm-hm. I think Michael should be given an award. That screenplay was certainly… Something."

Pam laughed, unable to keep the joke running any longer. "I'm sorry, but that was just terrible."

"God, I know. They were getting so into it, too… I feel bad for them, honestly."

Pam adjusted the strap of her shoulder-bag and shot Jim a glowing smile. "Do you want to know a secret?"

"Sure." They stopped walking, and Pam leaned her back against the grey-speckled wall behind her to rummage about it her bag.

"I kept mines. As a souvenir." She retrieved the script and held it in front of her face, triumphantly.

"Beesly, you are a genius." Jim shook his head in wonder of what she had done. Michael - or, at least, Dwight - would certainly realise that the copy was missing at some point; it took guts to take it.

(Even though she was wonderful, Pam just wasn't the type of person Jim would call "brave." She spoke quietly all the time, even in crowds, she didn't seem to have many other friends outside of their group - not that Jim was complaining, as it gave him more time to spend just with her - and he had seen for himself the way she spoke to and about Roy. Moments of pure bravery, without over-consideration of possible consequences to her actions, were rare with Pam. Jim treasured them for that very reason.)

"I know," she grinned, stuffing the script back into her bag. She was still smiling, Jim noticed, even as they walked down the hallway and got into the elevator to take them back to Pam's floor.

Neither could be sure who the noise came from, but the sound of a rumbling stomach broke the comfortable silence they had been in since getting on the elevator. The both agreed that they were pretty hungry - it had been a while since lunch, after all - and Jim somehow persuaded her to let him use the communal toaster in her floor's utility room to make his "world-famous" grilled cheese for them both.

"Are you sure they're world famous?" Pam flopped down into one of the only two chairs in the tiny room, her hair bouncing.

"Positive. I've received numerous commendations."

"Ah, of course."

"Seriously, though. They're good." The toaster popped, and Jim carefully picked out the first sandwich, dropping it on the plate when it burned his fingertips. "Try it. I'll bet you 10 bucks that it's amazing."

"I'll accept that bet." She swung herself up from the chair, and leaned against the counter above the grilled cheese, imitating Jim's pose, instead of heading back to the table.

"Smells good, at least. I'll give you that."

"Thank you." He replied sincerely. The toaster popped for a second time, so he turned his attention back to pulling the sandwich out and setting in down on his own plate. "Hey, um…" He started, surprising even himself. "This guy in class, Darryl, showed me this place, on the roof. It's pretty cool, y'know, and I was just wondering… Would you like to go up there with me?"

"Right now?"

"Um, yeah." He ran one hand over his hair, not caring that it messed everything up.

"Sure!" A small smile seemed to be playing at her lips. She picked up her plate, with the grilled cheese on top, still steaming with heat.

"Really?" He reached for his own makeshift dinner.

"Yeah, 'course. Where do we go?"

"Oh, um. I'll just show you, it's easier than explaining." Moving past Pam to the door proved a little awkward due to the narrowness of the small room, but nevertheless, he was soon leading the way down the hallway, up in the elevator, and into a room on the highest floor of the building marked _"ROOF"._

He managed to jiggle the door open (Darryl said although it wasn't technically meant to be accessed by students, the door was so old that by putting enough pressure on the handle and frame, it would eventually open anyway.)

It opened into a bleak-looking room with a lightbulb hanging from the ceiling, some rickety, old wooden stairs, and not much else. Jim flicked on the singular light by the lone switch on the wall, not that it really made much difference.

"I can carry yours, if you want. Just, 'cause, it might be a little tricky to get up the ladder while you're holding the plate."

"But then you'd be carrying a plate in each hand." She giggled, as if he was an idiot. He guessed she was probably right.

"Okay, I didn't think of that."

"Yeah, 'thought so."

He carefully stepped onto the bottom stair. It emanated a pretty scary _creak_ , but after testing it gently with both feet, Jim determined it would still hold his weight. He slowly limbed the stairs, balancing the plate in one hand and holding the railing or dear life with the other, until he reached the top.

It was a worn-out little trap-door, with a hole to the left side. Darryl had showed him how to shove it with just the right amount of force to let it open. He did as he was taught, and thankfully managed to get it open and pushed to the side without dropping his plate.

"It's open." He called down to Pam, who upon his instructions had not begun climbing the stairs yet.

"Okay, I'm coming!"

Jim scrambled up the last stair, finally climbing out into the open air.

It was a nice change from the stuffy, dusty air of the little room he had previously been in. Although it wasn't completely dark outside, yet, but the sun was definitely beginning to set, and so the landscape in the distance was covered in a dark blue, not-quite-dark-but-getting-there kind of light.

There were a few cheap yellow fold-out chairs sat out, just a couple of feet away from where he was standing - pretty much every student in the years above knew about the roof, and the stoner kids went up there to get high, sometimes. Fortunately, the place was deserted.

Except for he and Pam.

(And it just felt _right_. The sense of independence, like they were a couple of 10-year-olds discovering a clearing in the woods for the first time. The roof seemed like it was _theirs_ , even though, rationally, he knew they were obviously not the first people to go there.)

"Oh, it's pretty."

Pam had managed to clamber out onto the surface of the roof. She was clutching her plate of grilled cheese protectively with both hands, and was wearing a broad smile on her face, and Jim just really, really wanted to kiss her.

 _"I think I love you,"_ he said, but instead it came out as, "I know."

"Hey, there's seats out here and everything. This is fancy."

"Yeah. Yellow fold-outs. The epitome of class."

"So witty today, Halpert." She moved to stand next to him, lingering for a moment before pulling two of the fold-outs further from the others, moving them a just a little closer to the edge, sitting them next to each other.

"I try." He made his way to where she presently stood, as if she was waiting for permission, or something. Waiting for the go-ahead.

Jim sat down with his plate in his lap, and Pam followed suit, and then there was just silence for a moment.

(But it wasn't awkward. It could have been, if it were anyone else sitting next to him. But things were hardly ever awkward with Pam, now, not even when his impulses to hide or kiss her or tell her everything that ran through his head were so strong he was actually afraid he might do them.)

"I concede. This is, in fact, probably the best grilled cheese sandwich I have ever eaten in my life."

"Told you so." Jim grinned at her, and guessed it was probably time to start on his own dinner.

"So, uh, how's Rick? Your cousin?"

"Good, I think. Haven't spoke much since we last saw him, though."

"Huh."

"What?" He managed to disguise his confusion with a short laugh.

Pam chewed pensively for a moment, deep in thought. Eventually she replied, "I just thought you were closer."

"Oh."

"Yeah. Just, from the way you hung out at his party, it just seemed like… I guess it just seemed like you were the type of person who was close to his family."

"I don't know. I mean, we're pretty close, I guess. We keep up with each other's lives through Facebook, at the very least."

"Yeah."

"What about you?"

(He just really, really wanted to keep talking to her.)

She hummed and set her sandwich down on the plate, carefully balancing it in her lap once more. "I don't really have any cousins, or anything. I guess, out of everyone, I talk to my mom the most often."

"Who else is there?"

"In my family?"

"Yeah. You hardly talk about them; I'm curious, Beesly."

"It just never comes up." She glanced so quickly at him; Jim almost missed it. "Well, there's my mom and dad, who… They're married and everything, but they're pretty bland." She laughed, nervously. Jim wanted to hug her. "And then there's my younger sister. She's still in high school, obviously. Sophomore."

"Do you miss them?"

"Of course."

The night was starting to get cold. Jim focused on eating his already lukewarm grilled cheese before it froze.

"What made you want to take Business Management?"

Honestly, he was surprised Pam would want to continue the conversation like that. She wasn't usually one to ask questions, to really engage.

"I wanna be a business manager someday."

"Ha." She rolled her eyes. "No, but really. Why'd you take it?"

"It's interesting. I didn't get to study it in high school, and it's always something I've found pretty cool… And I really do want to be a manager someday. When we were 16, my friend and I said we were gonna start our own business as soon as we left College."

"And are you?"

He let out a short, humourless laugh. "No."

Pam seemed to understand the meaning behind his short response. "I'm sure you'll get to be a manager someday. You seem good at leadership."

"Thanks." He couldn't help but grin at her compliment. "But what about you? Why'd you choose Art?"

"I love art. I really like to draw, and some people have said I'm good at it." She shrugged. "I think I'd like to have a career out of it, someday."

"You will." He knew this for sure. Pam was the most remarkable person he had ever met.

* * *

 **sorry for the pretty late update! our wifi's been quite bad recently (though we're getting faster connection on the 21st!) but thankfully i managed to get it up here before midnight :) thanks for reading!**


	13. we hate the rain

**an: this chapter was inspired by both fics "Many The Miles" (non Office-related) by** **lulabo, and "Expressions in Emoticons" by NobleLandMermaid (Office related, of course!**

 **thank you for all the reviews/favourites/follows/reads so far!**

 **title taken from: "How We Love" by Ingrid Michelson :))**

 **ff . net apparently hates this kind of formatting, therefore for easier reading i'd recommend you to read this particular chapter on ao3 instead.**

 **link:** archive of our own works/3857485/chapters/10575123 **(without the spaces) :)**

* * *

email

 _sent 17:32_

TO: pambeesly004/ gmail . com

FROM: jhalpert/ gmail . com

SUBJECT: notes

Hey, just thought I'd email you the notes you missed today, although I guess they could fit in a text. Or a Tweet. You didn't really miss much.

 **file attached: pam-notes . pdf**

* * *

 _sent 18:02_

TO: jhalpert/ /gmail . com

FROM: pambeesly004/ gmail . com

SUBJECT: re: notes

Thanks! Sorry I couldn't make it. This cold is killing me! I hope I'll get better tomorrow. Today was pretty lonely, stuck inside all day. I might even miss Dwight.

(Just kidding!)

* * *

 _sent 18:08_

TO: pambeesly004/ gmail . com

FROM: jhalpert/ gmail . com

SUBJECT: re: re: notes

We have a test coming up, btw. I'm not sure if Scott mentioned it last class or not. (I usually just tune him out. I think today's class was the first time I've actually paid attention to anything he's saying. The things I do for you, Beesly!)

It's on October 9th. I think it's kind of like a pop quiz; but he's not given out study materials or anything.

* * *

 _sent 18:17_

TO: jhalpert/ gmail . com

FROM: pambeesly004/ gmail . com

SUBJECT: re: re: re: notes

I don't think he mentioned it before. Thanks though.

Hey, do you want to meet up at some point so we can study? I just don't really know anyone else in the class that well, and I feel like I ought to save you from studying with Dwight.

* * *

 _sent 18:20_

TO: pambeesly004/ gmail . com

FROM: jhalpert/ gmail . com

SUBJECT: re: re: re: re: notes

That would be great! Thanks. We should arrange a time?

* * *

 _sent 18:23_

TO: jhalpert/ gmail . com

FROM: pambeesly004/ gmail . com

SUBJECT: re: re: re: re: re: notes

Yeah, sure. I'll talk tomorrow? I'll be going back to class tomorrow, anyway. My mom's calling, so I'm just gonna talk to her then get some rest. :)

* * *

 _sent 18:25_

TO: pambeesly004/ gmail . com

FROM: jhalpert/ gmail . com

SUBJECT: re: re: re: re: re: re: notes

Ok. See you tomorrow. :) Get some rest!

* * *

text message

 _sent 13:13_

TO: Jim Halpert

FROM: Pam

are you nearly here? please come quick! SOS!

 _read 13:15_

* * *

 _sent 13:16_

TO: Beesly

FROM: Jim

just had to hand a paper in for business. almost there. what's up?

 _read 13:16_

* * *

 _sent 13:18_

TO: Jim Halpert

FROM: Pam

just hurry!

 _read 13:19_

* * *

email

 _sent 14:38_

TO: jhalpert/ gmail . com

FROM: pambeesly004/ gmail . com

SUBJECT: thank you!

Thanks again for helping me out with Kevin. He just wouldn't leave! I'd been talking to him for 10 minutes straight before I could even get the chance to text you!

I was also wondering if you could perhaps send me the plan for your next prank on Dwight? You promised it was something interesting. I'd like to see for myself. ;)

* * *

IM

 _ **beesly15**_ _is typing…_

 **beesly15** : can you believe what he's saying?

 _ **.**_

 _ **jimhalp**_ _is typing…_

 **jimhalp** : why are you IMing me? we sit next to each other?

.

 **beesly15** : i think Dwight might try and listen to our conversation. like, for mr. scott. idk

 **beesly15** : anyway this is fun

 **beesly15** : so

.

 **jimhalp** : okay?

.

 **beesly15** : :)

.

 **jimhalp** : anyway, what was he saying? I've not been listening

 **jimhalp** : ?

.

 **beesly15** : he's bringing a guest speaker tomorrow

 **beesly15** : someone called todd packer?

 **beesly15** : apparently he's "a great historian" and also "a beast with the ladies"

.

 **jimhalp** : seriously?

.

 **beesly15** : yeah

 **beesly15** : i don't know if i should come in tomorrow

 **beesly15** : :( sorry?

.

 **jimhalp** : noooo

 **jimhalp** : i can't survive here alone

.

 **beesly15** : bc then you'll have to actually work?

.

 **jimhalp** : exactly

 **jimhalp** : i don't even know what that's like

 **jimhalp** : seriously tho. please come in tomorrow.

 **jimhalp:** it might be funny?

.

 _ **beesly15**_ _is typing…_

 _ **beesly15**_ _is typing…_

 _ **beesly15**_ _is typing…_

 _._

 **jimhalp** : BEESLY

 **jimhalp** : BEESLY

 **jimhalp** : ?

.

 _ **beesly15**_ _is typing…_

 **beesly15** : …fine.

 **beesly15** : but only to keep you from killing dwight or something

.

 **jimhalp** : :))

* * *

email

 _sent 18:37_

TO: pambeesly004/ gmail . com

FROM: jhalpert/ gmail . com

SUBJECT: he needs to calm down

Dwight is hyping himself up for the history test. It's a week away but apparently he wants to get full marks.

He needs to be stopped. This is killing me. So behold, the master plan.

;)

 **file attached: dwight - FORPAM .**

* * *

 _sent 18:52_

TO: jhalpert/ gmail . com

FROM: pambeesly004/ gmail . com

SUBJECT: re: he needs to calm down

That was surprisingly detailed. Do you aways put that much effort into your pranks? (If so: Maybe if you put that much effort into schoolwork you could beat Dwight? I'm disappointed in you, James.)

I'm not sure how I come into it, though?

* * *

 _sent 18:54_

TO: pambeesly004/ gmail . com

FROM: jhalpert/ gmail . com

SUBJECT: changing this bc we can't just have "re" all the time

You can help me to convince him, if you like. Or, whatever you want, I don't mind.

Anyway.

Never asked you today, sorry: Are you feeling better?

* * *

 _sent 18:57_

TO: jhalpert/ gmail . com

FROM: pambeesly004/ gmail . com

SUBJECT: cup noodles

As long as "better" means "no longer wanting to die but wouldn't really mind being put into a coma as long as it would get rid of this stupid cold" then yes.

I wish I had put off staying off class until tomorrow though, because then I could miss Mr. Scott's business friend.

* * *

 _sent 18:59_

TO: pambeesly004/ gmail . com

FROM: jhalpert/ gmail . com

SUBJECT: "pack-man"

If you're really not feeling well, you could stay off if you want? Like I know I made a big deal of dying if you left me alone in that hellscape but seriously, if you're not feeling up to it I can just email you the notes like yesterday?

* * *

 _sent 19:01_

TO: jhalpert/ gmail . com

FROM: pambeesly004/ gmail . com

SUBJECT: "hellscape?"

I'm just being melodramatic. It's really not that bad. I'll definitely be going in tomorrow!

But thanks for caring. You're sweet :*

* * *

 _sent 19:05_

TO: pambeesly004/ gmail . com

FROM: jhalpert/ gmail . com

SUBJECT: hellscape = a bad place. but ":*" ?

:* ?

What?

* * *

 _sent 19:06_

TO: jhalpert/ gmail . com

FROM: pambeesly004/ gmail . com

SUBJECT: :* :* :* :* :* :*

It's like the 90s emoticon version of the little kissy face emoji. My laptop's super old, I can't get any modern-day new-fangled emojis!

* * *

 _sent 19:07_

TO: pambeesly004/ gmail . com

FROM: jhalpert/ gmail . com

SUBJECT: :) :( ;) :* :/ :D D: ^.^ . o.o -.- etc

You don't need new-fangled emojis to have a good time. My laptop doesn't get them either. 90s emoticons it is! Cheers to the stone age!

* * *

 _sent 19:08_

TO: jhalpert/ gmail . com

FROM: pambeesly004/ gmail . com

SUBJECT: *.* e.e . . u.u n.n

Huzzah! ;)

* * *

 **an: another shorter chapter, this week. i decided to try out this format to show a little bit more of their friendship outside of** **just face-to-face interaction, so here this is!**

 **EDIT: for some reason, not matter how many time i edit this the formatting errors are still there. argh! so sorry.**

 **next chapter: studying!**


	14. cause soon enough we'll die

**another later upload :/ sorry! 5th year is keeping me v busy.**

 **title taken from: "We Might Be Dead By Tomorrow" by Soko :)**

* * *

"We might need to have a small change of plans."

"Hm?" Jim looked up from his coffee, which he had been staring into for possibly the last 10 minutes.

"I thought Kelly was gonna be out tonight, but apparently she's going to stay in tonight to Skype her sisters back home."

"Oh."

"Yeah." She glanced down, quickly, just so she wouldn't have to make eye contact. She didn't want to see disappointment in his face.

"Well, I think Dwight's out tonight, too."

"Really?"

"Yep." He took a short sip of his drink. It looked hot. "He's going back to the farm."

"Farm?"

"Beet farm."

"Oh. Right." She wondered what Jim meant by telling her that Dwight was gone. Surely he didn't mean-

"So we could study at mines, if you want."

Oh. She didn't know what to say - she was grateful, of course, and she really did want to study with him; he made things fun and simultaneously was actually pretty knowledgable about the course - but at the same time, she wasn't so sure about going to his room.

(Not that she thought Jim would ever "try anything". It wasn't anything like that - but, she had noticed that he perhaps had a little bit of a crush on her. Maybe.)

"I don't know…"

"We could leave the door open," he offered, seemingly only half-joking. "It's fine if you don't want to. Like, I totally get it, it's just… I feel like it'll be better to study with a partner, y'know?"

"Okay." She surprised even herself. "That sounds fine. Sorry, by the way - about freaking out, sort of… Sorry."

"No problem."

"So…"

"Can I meet you somewhere beforehand? Only, I don't really know where your room is…"

"No, that's fine."

"Great."

"The canteen?"

"Sure!"

"Great."

"Great."

It was the first really awkward conversation they'd had in weeks. Pam just wanted to hide.

* * *

"Why are you packing up all your books?" Kelly asked from her place on her own bed. She wrinkled her nose in apparent disgust.

"Studying with Jim. I said I'd meet him in, like-" she checked her phone. "10 minutes."

"Oh." Kelly nodded understandingly, and went back to painting her toenails. "Studying." She added the last part in a way that probably would've used air quotes if her hands hadn't been otherwise occupied.

"Yeah. Studying."

"No, I believe you."

"Okay, then-"

"I'm just saying, Pam," she broke herself off with an exasperated sigh. "It can be really confusing when you say things like that. I mean, studying? Really? With a boy, in his room?"

"But I'm really not-"

"That could mean, like, anything." Kelly concluded.

"Well, not in this case." Pam replied, finishing packing all her History materials into the old, worn-out satchel she had prepared.

(She might have been acting little crazy, but Pam had to admit that Kelly _did_ have a point. Well, maybe. She had grown to learn that "studying" with members of the other sex had certain connotations in college. Especially, it seemed, in the eyes of her roommate.)

* * *

"Hey!" She found Jim leaning against the wall of the canteen entrance. His hair was even more messy than usual, so Pam could assume he had been running his hands through it an awful lot. He seemed to do that when he was nervous, she noticed.

"Oh! Hey." He replied, startled. "Sorry. Didn't see you coming."

"Yeah, I'm notoriously good at sneaking up on people." She rolled her eyes.

"Absolutely." Jim looked around the empty hall once before asking: "Shall we?"

"We shall."

Jim took off in the direction of the elevators, with Pam close behind.

"You're the floor above, right?"

"Yep."

"Cool."

Jim pushed the button to call the elevator, shooting her one of his trademark grins when their eyes met.

"Isn't Dwight studying?" Pam asked, just to make conversation.

(Except she wasn't really sure whether she'd rather Dwight be in the room with them or not. The prospect of being alone with a boy - Jim? - in his room was rather daunting.)

"Yeah. He's back at the farm just now, left right after business. I guess he'll probably spend his time there to study."

"Oh."

"Yeah. I bet-"

He cut himself off as the elevator doors _dinged_ open. "After you."

"Thanks." She stepped in, adjusting the strap of her satchel on her shoulder.

Jim followed suit, punching in the number of his floor - 4. He tapped one hand constantly against his side for the entirety of the short elevator ride.

After what felt like an eternity to Pam, the elevator finally came to a stop, and the old doors shuddered open.

Pam had never been on this floor before. All she really knew was that this was where the majority of the boys in the Dunder-Mifflin block lived - including Dwight, Jim, Ryan, and Kevin Malone.

Jim's room was around halfway down the hall. It was a little shocking - was that the word? - how similar their rooms looked, at least from the outside. The same boring grey wall; the same boring tan door.

(Maybe she just never pictured Jim that way.)

"Here lies my humble abode," Jim grinned, gesturing with one limp hand towards the door. The little plaque beside it read in block letters: _"DWIGHT SCHRUTE and JAMES HALPERT."_ She thought about how the plaque she and Kelly shared was almost identical to this one, except where Dwight and Jim's names should have been, it instead proclaimed: _"PAMELA BEESLY and KELLY KAPOOR."_

"Very unique."

"Ah, yes. I'm sure you will be even more impressed with the interior, however." He pushed down the door handle carefully, opening the creaky door slowly, like he was afraid something might jump out at him.

The door opened the full way, and Pam was finally able to see the entire interior of Jim's room. The basics - the things that were in all dorm rooms, in all of the buildings on their campus - the twin beds and desks; closet, and the A4 laminated sheet of paper detailing the school rules concerning dorm rooms. Pam was pretty sure that they were breaking at least one of the rules at present.

It was pretty easy to tell which side of the room was Dwight's and which belonged to Jim. The right was pretty plain overall; beige sheets, textbooks neatly stacked on a shelf by the bed. The only thing that really stood out was the shelf above the headboard, which sat a seemingly countless number of trophies, medallions, and plaques. It was hard to tell what they were for, though she could make out the words, _"Junior Fireman Assistant"_ on 4 of them.

The left side had more personality: pale blue bedsheets, a few colourful posters on the wall (The Decemberists tour poster being one of them, which she made a mental note to tease him about later), and two shelves full of an array of CDs, movies, and books. His textbooks were scattered haphazardly over the bed and on his (already untidy) desk.

"Everything okay?" Jim asked, somewhat nervously.

"Just taking it in." Pam replied, still looking around the room. When she had finished her survey, she turned back to her friend. "Have you got your books?"

"Yeah, yeah, just one sec." He rummaged through the small pile of books stacked on his desk until he finally retrieved the History books.

"So, how do you normally study?" Pam wasn't really sure where to sit, so she wheeled his desk chair closer to the bed and flopped down there.

"Um," Jim perched on the edge of his bed. "I'm not really sure, to be honest."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't really study," he began. Upon seeing her incredulous face, he stammered to correct himself. "I mean, I obviously did for finals, a little, you know? But that was mostly with the help of my mom and brothers, so…"

"So you've never properly studied? For _anything?"_

"I guess not." He shot her a sheepish grin, but at the same time didn't seem to be so sure of what her reaction could be.

"I suppose I can't really say I'm surprised…"

"Hilarious, Beesly." He rolled his eyes at her. "But are you gonna help me?"

"Of course." She nodded frantically, probably too many times, and lunged for her satchel, which she had abandoned by the doorwomen she came in.

Pam Beesly was always one of the pupils in school who over-prepared for some exams, and hardly studied for others. She was always hopeless at Maths, and so at some point she had given up completely on studying for the class tests, and ended up flunking the subject for senior year.

However she excelled at Art, and studied for weeks before the theory exams. She ended up getting an A.

For their study session, she had packed all the History textbooks she owned, her laptop (though she doubted that would be much use) and about 6 highlighters.

Jim, however, appeared to only have prepared a few textbooks, and a pencil.

"Okay, so we're going to study - _properly_ \- for 10 minutes, then have a break. That's always worked for me, and it's good to have short breaks every once in a while, you know?"

"Sure."

The first couple minutes of studying were actually going well, until Jim started to lose concentration.

"Would you mind if I put on some music? It helps me focus better."

"No, that's fine." She hesitated a moment before asking what she really wanted to know. "Do you have trouble focusing a lot?"

Jim shoved a CD into the small stereo balanced precariously on the edge of his desk. His finger hovered over the play button before answering: "Yeah, I guess. I kind of always have, though, so it's fine."

"Oh."

(It made sense. There were a lot of things that Pam noticed about Jim, with the main thing being that he was always moving. He couldn't seem to sit still. Usually he bounced his leg rapidly under the desk in class, sometimes he tapped his hand against his thigh, but he was almost never still.)

The stereo whirred for a second before playing the first track. It was a song Pam didn't recognise, beginning with a drum beat and twang-y guitar.

 _"Our children will always hear_

 _Romantic tales of distant years_

 _Our gilded age may come and go_

 _Our crooked dreams will always flow…"_

The singer continued, though Pam couldn't make out any more of the lyrics. His voice was soft and smooth; calming, even.

"What song is this?"

Jim looked up from his textbook. "Heaven, I think. By The Walkmen?"

She shook her head. "Never heard of it. It's really good, though. I like it."

"Thanks." When he grinned at her, her stomach did a funny little flutter.

(Maybe she shouldn't have ignored it.

She did.)

* * *

"I am going to die of boredom." Jim declared. They had only been studying for about 40 minutes, but even Pam was starting to feel the effect.

The song was now a gloomy, soft one - the only lyric she could make out was _"I'll sleep inside your chest"_ but nevertheless she liked it.

"Do you want to stop?" She offered, flipping the pages of her notebook. They gave a satisfying " _floop_ " noise.

"Do you mind? I know you wanted to be prepared."

She sighed through her nose. "Not really. I think we've done all we can do, considering he didn't give us a study guide or anything." She started to gather up her things - over the course of the evening, all her textbooks had been spread out across the floor, and she was pretty sure that at least 2 of her highlighters had found their way under Dwight's bed.

"Need some help?"

"Sure, thanks."

Jim crouched beside her, grabbing the outlying books and placing them on the little stack she had made on the floor. He reached out one arm under Dwight's bed, grimacing comically as he did so, and managed to retrieve the lost highlighters.

Pam stuffed her things into the satchel and was just adjusting the strap on her shoulder, getting ready to go back to her room, when Jim asked her to wait.

The song had changed, now, to some strange song with what seemed like a banjo playing the melody. The singer's voice soon joined in:

 _"Baby, you've been going so crazy,_

 _Lately, nothing seems to be going right_

 _Solo, why'd you have to get so low?_

 _You're so - You've been waiting in the sun too long…"_

"I have something for you," Jim held up one finger, indicating that he would only take a second. Pam waited patiently, and the song emerged into the chorus:

 _"But if you sing,_

 _Sing,_

 _Sing, sing, sing, sing_

 _For the love you bring won't mean a thing,_

 _Unless you sing, sing, sing, sing…"_

"Got it," Jim pulled out a pink garment from over the back of his suitcase. It took Pam a minute to realise what it was he was showing her, but then it clicked.

"My pink hoodie!"

"Yeah," he laughed, nervously. "I meant to give it back ages ago, but I forgot, and now I guess I've kept it for a while…" He offered it to her, one-handed.

"Thank you." She took it - it wasn't in any bad shape; just looked as if it was brand new. She couldn't resist teasing him about it, however. "You got it smelling all boy-like, though."

"Sorry."

"It's okay." She folded it over her arm. It was so soft.

"I'll see you around, then?"

"Yeah." She rocked up onto the balls of her feet and back again a couple times, waiting to see if there was anything else he wanted to say. It seemed like there might be.

(There never was.)

"I'll see you tomorrow." She offered, politely.

"See you tomorrow." He stuck out his hand.

(What she done next surprised even herself. Later she would blame it on her tiredness, and the fact that she had just spent 40 minutes studying for a test she was given no material for, and, yes, that he was her best friend.)

She impulsively wrapped her arms around him.

He was soft, and smelled of fabric softener - the cheap, off-brand kind - and dust. Once he realised what was going on, he slowly rested his arms around her back, so gentle that she probably wouldn't even know he was there if not for the tingly feeling she got whenever he touched her.

"Hey," he said softly, and she felt the vibrations of his chest. "You okay there, Beesly?"

She said nothing, only nodding her head minutely.

The hug lasted longer than usual platonic friend-hugs usually did. Both were aware of this fact, but neither mentioned it. Pam resisted the urge to apologise for what had happened, but she knew that would only make things even more weird.

The last few chords of the song struck out into the room.

"Bye, Jim."

The look on his face as he wished her goodnight gave her the same strange fluttery feeling in her stomach again.

(When she realised what it was, she absolutely repressed it.)

(And so did he.

For a while longer, at least.)

* * *

 **as always, thank you for your continued reads/views/reviews :) it seriously means a lot.**


	15. say what you wanna say

**hellloooo! happy september :)**

 **guest reviews (i hardly keep up on these sorry!)**

 **GUEST: (on chapter 12) thank you! that seriously** **means a lot!**

 **GUEST: (on chapter 12) you're welcome! thank YOU so much for reading!**

 **SOPHIE: (on chapter 11) i'm glad to hear you like this! and thanks :)**

 **RACHELLE: (on chapter 11) thanks! jim's the best, amiright?**

 ** _title taken from: "Brave" by Sara Bareilles :D_**

* * *

 _ **PamBees**_ _is currently listening to:_ _ **Heaven**_ _(_ _ **The**_ _ **Walkmen**_ _)_

* * *

IM

 _ **jimhalp**_ _is online_

 _ **jimhalp**_ _is typing…_

 **jimhalp** : i can see you stealing my music taste

 **jimhalp** : the walkmen, really?

 **.**

 _ **beesly15**_ _is online_

 _ **beesly15**_ _is typing…_

 **beesly15** : ? how can you see that?

 **.**

 **jimhalp** : i follow you on spotify

 **jimhalp** : songs you listen to show up in my feed

 **.**

 **beesly15** : ?

 **beesly15** : what's your username?

 **.**

 **jimhalp** : halpert95 :)

 **.**

 **beesly15** : oh i see

 **beesly15** : followed. now i can stalk what you're listening to ;)

 **.**

 **jimhalp** : :)

 **.**

 _ **beesly15**_ _is typing…_

 **beesly15** : coldplay, jim? are you serious?

 **.**

 **jimhalp** : what's wrong with a bit of coldplay in the evening?

 **.**

 **beesly15** : im not saying theres anything *wrong* with them

 **beesly15** : all im saying is that your hipster levels just went through the roof

 **beesly15** : ;)

 **.**

 **jimhalp** : im not a hipster!

 **jimhalp** : you're more hipster than me. i see you listening to ingrid michaelson.

 **.**

 **beesly15** : …

 **beesly15** : fine. i see your point. truce?

 _ **.**_

 _ **jimhalp**_ _is typing…_

 _ **jimhalp**_ _is typing…_

 _ **jimhalp**_ _is typing…_

 **jimhalp** : …fine.

 **.**

 **beesly15** : :D

* * *

"I've been listening to your playlists." Pam slipped into the chair beside him, dumping her bag on the desk instead of preparing for the class, and instead talking to him.

"Hello there, Pam. How was your day?"

"Funny." She deadpanned. "But really. I've been listening to them, almost all of them, actually." She could never keep a serious face for very long.

"Okay…" He replied slowly, not sure of what exactly she was getting at.

"And like, I hate to admit it, but they're actually pretty good."

"Wow, really? Are you actually paying me a _compliment_? For once?"

"Yes."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome." She shot him one of her classic thousand-watt-smiles before tending to her bag, setting out everything she would need for the lesson in front of her.

* * *

 _ **Halpert95**_ _is currently listening to:_ _ **Flying**_ _ **Horses**_ _(_ _ **Dispatch**_ _)_

 _[playlist:_ _ **Roommate's Gone**_ _]_

 _ **PamBees**_ _is currently listening to:_ _ **Sing**_ _(_ _ **Travis**_ _)_

 _[playlist:_ _ **Songs I Stole From Jim**_ _]_

* * *

text message

 _sent 19:47_

TO: Beesly

FROM: Jim

"songs i stole from jim?"

 _read 19:51_

* * *

 _sent 19:51_

TO: Jim Halpert

FROM: Pam

it's an accurate title. unlike SOME people, i don't go all out trying to name all my playlists something hipster and dramatic.

 _read 19:52_

* * *

 _sent 19:54_

TO: Beesly

FROM: Jim

i don't know what you're talking about. i am the MASTER of mixtape titling.

 _read 19:54_

* * *

 _sent 19:55_

TO: Jim Halpert

FROM: Pam

"mixtape"? is this 2004?

 _read 19:55_

* * *

 _sent 19:58_

TO: Beesly

FROM: Jim

no. but didn't you make mixtape cds in high school? or middle school at least?

 _read 19:58_

* * *

 _sent 19:59_

TO: Jim Halpert

FROM: Pam

like once. for roy, but im not sure if he listened to it or not. it was kinda dumb anyway.

 _read 20:03_

* * *

 _sent 20:04_

TO: Beesly

FROM: Jim

mixtapes aren't dumb. they're suuuper cool. me and my friends made tons of them in high school. like for presents and stuff?

 _read 20:05_

* * *

 _sent 20:06_

TO: Jim Halpert

FROM: Pam

isn't that a bit cliched? like, john hughes?

 _read 20:06_

* * *

 _sent: 20:08_

TO: Beesly

FROM: Jim

a) theres nothing wrong with good old john hughes b) they're so not cliched! and c) you've obviously never received a mixtape, Beesly.

 _read 20:09_

* * *

 _sent 20:10_

TO: Jim Halpert

FROM: Pam

of course i haven't. most people haven't! this isn't the 90s!

 _read 20:12_

* * *

 _sent 20:13_

TO: Beesly

FROM: Jim

ok, we have to rectify this.

 _read 20:15_

* * *

 _sent 20:15_

TO: Jim Halpert

FROM: Pam

are you suggesting making a mixtape? for real?

 _read 20:16_

* * *

 _sent 20:17_

TO: Beesly

FROM: Jim

absolutely i am.

however, i will of course be expecting one back, beesly. ;)

 _read 20:18_

* * *

 _sent 20:22_

TO: Jim Halpert

FROM: Beesly

alright then. im gonna mixtape your ass off. be ready, halpert. .

 _read 20:23_

* * *

Jim Halpert had a total of 131 songs in his online library, and another 20 or so CDs in his room.

He had always been a fan of music - sometimes, he felt that the world was too quiet or even boring, and music was a way to relieve that. It decorated time, just as his posters decorated his walls.

For Pam's sake and for his, he tried not to make the tape too personal. He knew if he did, he'd probably end up revealing things he wasn't ready to reveal to her, not yet, and so he tried to choose songs that had little personal underlayers.

He grabbed a notebook from his desk drawer (still unwritten in, despite having been at college for over a month now) and wrote in block capitals at the top: _"PAM'S TAPE"_

The first item: " _Heaven_ ". He remembered how she mentioned liking it when she first heard it, and he knew she had been listening to it herself recently. Plus, he felt it had a good start to it.

Finding a second song was slightly harder. He scrolled through his library twice before mentally going through the list of CDs he had in his room.

Suddenly, it came to him, and so he scribbled it down frantically before he could forget.

The other songs came pretty easy after that.

(Though maybe he broke his own rule, just a little bit.)

* * *

 **PamBees** is currently listening to: **Eet** ( **Regina** **Spketor** )

 **Halpert95** is currently listening to: **Breezeblocks** ( **alt-j** )

 **Halpert95** is currently listening to: **Eet** ( **Regina** **Spektor** )

* * *

Pam had already drafted her tape for Jim twice, but had given up both times.

Jim's taste is music was so… Offbeat. He seemed to like songs that had more depth to them, whereas Pam, herself, just liked anything that sounded nice.

For the third time creating and writing out the list of songs, she had decided to just give up on the aesthetic quality of the thing and just focus on putting in songs that she liked, and would like her friend to listen to.

 _"SONGS FOR JIM"_ was written at the top of the Word document. The word count only listed as 24 so far, and the cursor kept on blinking at her.

The first was a rather obvious choice for her. " _The Calculation_." It was one of the songs she had discovered near the end of middle school, right before the summer. She didn't understand it then, but she felt that she finally could, now, and the song was important to her.

Another she was definitely putting in, (though she wasn't sure exactly _where_ ) was an old nostalgic-tinted one from her childhood. _"Send Me On My Way"_ was one of the only songs she remembered having on CD when she was elementary-school-age, and even to this day, she still couldn't make out the lyrics. Something about that certain song just felt special. And it reminded her of Jim, a little, in some strange, roundabout way.

The others took a little less thinking, but she spent a lot more of her time arranging them properly, wanting them to flow nicely into each other to impress Jim. He was a self-identifying mixtape pro, after all.

* * *

email

 _sent 18:41_

TO: jhalpert/ gmail . com

FROM: pambeesly004/ gmail . com

SUBJECT: ...?

I'm all done with your songs, btw :) Just need to borrow Kelly's laptop to burn them... But I should be able to get it to you in a few days.

Hope you're almost done, I can't wait to see what you have in store for me this time ;)

* * *

 _sent 19:23_

TO: pambeesly004/ gmail . com

FROM: jhalpert/ gmail . com

SUBJECT: ? already?

I'm... Nearly there. I think I'll be finished soon, but it just doesn't feel complete yet, y'know?

But once I'm done I'll be sure to get it to you, don't worry!

And I'm certainly looking forward to yours, too, Beesly. :)

* * *

 **thanks for reading!**


	16. roars for my memories of you

**can't believe this thing is past 30k words! this is officially the longest fic ive ever** **written. and yet there still so much more planned!**

 **title taken from: "Something Good" by alt-j :))**

 **ALSO: I made these playlists on Spotify! If you want to listen to them my Spotify username is Bumblebeeslies**

 **OR here are the links:** open. / user/bumblebeeslies/ playlist/6XOLX9YJ5YXTwBfgDBON9d **(from Jim to Pam)**

open. / user/bumblebeeslies/ playlist/4co6PN0L7XYPxkhFkR6SrA **(from Pam to Jim)**

 ***without** **spaces!***

 **anyway, here this is!**

* * *

"So are you guys, like, dating now?" Ryan asked as soon as Kelly left the room. To no surprise, he was sitting cross-legged on Kelly's bed across from Pam, having been lured there under Kelly's false promise of "just studying".

Pam had spent the last moment not filled with Kelly's constant speech or Ryan's interjections to talk about the CD she had made for Jim. She was actually pretty happy with the finished copy, all things considered, and was excited for History the following day, when Jim had agreed to exchange them.

"No." She scoffed, because _of course_ Ryan would ask a question like that. "I'm with Roy, remember? He goes to community college back home."

"Yeah, yeah, you said like a billion times." He rolled his eyes for effect. "I'm just saying that it seems kind of weird you _made a mixtape for the guy_ if you're not even going out."

"Well, we're close, I guess. And making this-" she held up the plastic wallet the CD was placed in, "-was actually pretty fun to make."

"Cool, cool. Just so you know, if things with Troy don't work out, I've always thought you and me could-"

"No." She interrupted, firmly. Ryan would be the last person she'd ever want to go out with.

* * *

Jim had gotten to class much earlier than usual in order to definitely be there with Pam before the class started.

The only other person in the class was Stanley, an older guy Jim had never spoken to before. He didn't seem to pay much attention to Mr. Scott, (although hardly anyone did), choosing to do crossword puzzles instead of taking notes.

The CD was tucked safely in the front pocket of his bag, sealed in a case he took from an older disk back in his room. As per Pam's request, he had written a note detailing the songs in order with the "meaning" behind choosing them, and had taped that sealed envelope to the back of the case, also.

He tapped his index finger nervously against the hard desk. What if she didn't like it? What if it was too personal, too revealing, or too detached? Yes, he had done this a thousand times before, but never for someone like Pam. This seemed more important, somehow.

He had to wait almost 10 minutes before he caught sight of the familiar mane of honey-brown curls bouncing into class, and when Pam slipped into the seat next to his and bumped her knee playfully against his, it was as if all his worries just disappeared.

"'You ready for this, Halpert?" She waved the plastic CD sleeve Jim had noticed she was holding. He could see through the little window that she had written simply _"for Jim"_ in her own handwriting at the top, and continued it at the bottom: _"from Pam"_

"You bet I am." He lunged for his bag under the desk, scrambling to retrieve the disk he had prepared so carefully.

Pam waited with a expectant smirk, but as soon as she saw the case with the plain envelope taped to the back, her face broke into a grin.

"Looks like you actually worked hard on something for once."

"Yeah, it was a weird experience for me."

"I can tell."

Jim wasn't sure what to say next. He waited for Pam to find the note she had written to accompany her playlist for him, and suddenly wondered whether his own note was too deep or pretentious or depressing or a billion other adjectives, until Pam, thankfully, broke the silence.

"Um, so. This is for you." She said, only a little awkwardly, sliding the sleeve and folded-over note to his side of the desk.

He picked up the note immediately and was just about to unfold it when Pam shook her head, sharply. "Don't read it yet! Read it while you're hearing the songs. It'll make more sense that way."

"Only if you promise to do the same with mine," he replied, setting down the note and choosing to examine the CD instead.

"Fine."

He slid over the disk he had prepared. Pam took it with a gracious smile.

"Thank you." She almost whispered the words.

He had printed simply _"to Pam"_ at the top of the disk, but she traced the words with her finger nonetheless, a tell-tale grin forming on her face.

"This is great."

"You're welcome."

"I can't wait to listen to it."

"Yeah, me too."

The rest of the class seemed to teleport to the room all at once, and soon, (far too soon for Jim's liking) Mr. Scott began the lesson.

* * *

"You're in business soon, right?" Pam nodded pointedly to the sleeved disk still held in Jim's hand.

"Oh, yeah." He replied, shaking his head a little. "I'll just have to go back to my room to put this away."

"Yeah." She had put Jim's cased CD in her pocket, but now the corners were digging into her thigh. "I think I'm gonna listen to yours when I get back." She licked her lips; nervous. Why was she nervous all of a sudden?

"I don't have class." She added quickly, just for clarification.

"I know." Jim shuffled his feet in front of him, and Pam worried that she had somehow infected him with her own irrational awkwardness.

"I should probably let you get going, then." Her voice was far too cheery.

"Okay." He gave her a small smile before he set off, but it felt more like a pity prize than anything.

* * *

Her hand trembled a little as she pushed the disk into the port. Her laptop made the familiar loud whirring noise as it processed, until the pop-up opened on her screen.

She hovered her index finger over the trackpad for a moment before clicking _play._

The guitars kicked in, and she wasn't sure to be glad he had chosen a familiar song or disappointed. The envelope was lying unopened on her bed, and so she sunk down next to it, occurred it up, and carefully opened it, ensuring not to rip the envelope or the contents.

 _"Beesly-_

 _You asked specifically for me to write this, but to be honest, I'm not really sure what to say._

 _You're great. I hope you like these songs. I tried not to make them too hipster. Be warned, though: not all of theses songs have a long, sentimental backstory to my choosing of them. Some of them just sound really cool._

 _Anyway. Have fun._

 _\- Jim"_

The tracklist seemed to be on the back. Pam turned the thin sheet over, and was greeted once more by Jim's messy scrawl.

"SONGS:

 _1\. Heaven by The Walkmen_

"Our gilded age may come and go / Our crooked dreams will always flow"

 _I've always liked this song, but now you like it, too, so now I've been listening to it a lot more recently. It's good; I like the guitar at the beginning._

 _2\. Sing by Travis_

"The love you bring won't mean a thing / Unless you sing"

 _Again, another one I've always liked. I think you mentioned liking it, too, but that's not the only reason I put it in._

 _I found this one in my neighbour's garage sale. He's been all over, and he was moving house a couple of years ago, so he sold most of his CDs. I bought a few, and "The Invisible Band" was one of them - that's the album the songs is from. I don't really know how to explain it. I put it on in my room whenever I had to study or if school was stressing me out or I'd had a really good day, or anything, really… I played it so many times, I think I know all the words to the entire album._

 _3\. You Are The Coffin by Flatsound_

"Some say we should take a rest / I think I'd rather be dead"

 _I had a best friend in high school who didn't have the best home life. She wore headphones constantly, which I used to get really irritated over, but she almost always listened to the same song - this one - over and over again._

 _We haven't talked in a while, and when my dad was driving me down here for the first day of school to help me get unpacked and everything, I listened to this song for the first time. I think I get her now. People's favourite songs can say a lot about them._

 _4\. Flying Horses by Dispatch_

"They're much happier on their own / Beauty like that knows no home"

 _I honestly can't say with certainty where or how I found this song. All I know is I've been listening to it since freshman year of high school. I guess it's about trying to preserve - beauty? - that shouldn't be preserved. Like, don't try to capture "beauty" for your own selfish gain. I think I'm still learning that._

 _5\. Something Good by Alt-j_

"Something good tonight will make me forget about you for now"

 _A break from the potential angst! There isn't really a reason for putting this on here. I just really like this song. (Call me a hipster all you want, Beesly.)_

 _6\. Black Sun by Death Cab For Cutie_

"There is hope within despair / And there is beauty in a failure"

 _I read somewhere online that this song was written about Ben Gibbard's divorce, but I never thought about it that way when I first heard it. I thought it represented desire to find goodness - "beauty" - in otherwise terrible things, and how the same techniques can be applied vice versa. Like, every cloud has a silver lining, but in the same way, every silver lining has a cloud. (Maybe I'm still not out of the high school English class mindset!)_

 _7\. Why Does It Always Rain On Me? by Travis_

"Everybody's saying everything's alright / Still I can't close my eyes / I'm seeing a tunnel at the end of all these lights"

 _Another slightly depressing song I tend to over-analyse. I guess it's to do with pessimism, and i identified with this song A LOT in my early-high school years. Just try to picture 16-year-old me zoning out in my bedroom listening to this song and thinking about the inevitability of negativity. (God, I was such an EMO kid.)_

 _8\. Mountains by Message To Bears_

"And we could run away / The mountains say, the mountains say"

 _Only discovered this recently, but I really like it. It sounds kind of whimsical, you know? I don't know if you ever thought about this, but bak in middle school my friends and I always used to plan to run away together, someday. I'm from a small town, and my friends and I always used to believe that we'd someday get out of there together. We obviously didn't, and I hardly talk to any of them now. But I still think about those empty promises sometimes._

 _9\. Creep by Radiohead_

"You're so very special / I wish I was special"

 _I think the first time I heard this - and actually thought about the lyrics - was when I was 13 and in love with a girl from my Spanish class. I identified with it then (I told you I was_ an _emo kid!) and I still do, now, even thought the former reason doesn't really apply anymore. Sometimes I feel like my combined height and tendency to stare creep people out. I feel like I should own a trench-coat or something._

 _That's it! Hope you liked this._

 _\- Jim"_

* * *

Business class seemed to be lasting years longer than usual. Jim was losing his staring competition with the clock - still 15 minutes left - when he felt his phone buzz in his pocket.

 _._

 _sent 16:46_

 _FROM: Kelly Kapoor_

 _TO: Jim_

 _omg ur cd literally made pam cry. !_

 _read 16:47_

.

Another two came in before Jim even had the chance to formulate a response.

 _._

 _sent 16:47_

 _FROM: Kelly Kapoor_

 _TO: Jim_

 _lol she's saying she's fine. she obvs isn't tho. what sound did u even put on there?_

 _read 16:47_

.

And:

 _._

 _sent 16:48_

 _FROM: Kelly Kapoor_

 _TO: Jim_

 _forget i said anything. she says she never wants u to know she cried at ur weird emo mixtape. nvm. :)_

 _read 16:48_

.

He just had to get through 10 minutes.

* * *

"Seriously." Pam pleaded with her roommate. Jim's note lay still opened beside her, but there was a small, unmistakable wet stain leaking through it. "Please don't tell him. This is so embarrassing." She swiped at both eyes in one action, ignoring how it contradicted her previous claims of not having cried at a CD.

"I haven't told him." Kelly said seriously. She dropped her phone to the bed. "Anyway, what was on it?"

"Nothing important."

(This was a lie.)

"Yeah, I'm sure." Kelly shot her a wry smile.

Pam carefully folded up Jim's note into the original shape it had been in, being extra mindful of keeping all the edges straight and corners pointed, before slipping it back into the envelope.

Her computer whirred, still, even though the tracks had finished. She pushed the button for the disk to eject and gingerly placed it back in its case, popping the sides down and clasping the case shut.

"Why were you crying?" Kelly asked softly. When Pam looked up to her friend, she could see that Kelly truly cared about her answer to the question, and not only for reasons of gossip or snide curiosity. "Hypothetically speaking."

"I don't know." It was true. Nothing that he had written in the note was particularly emotional, and she guessed that someone who cared less than she did for Jim Halpert might even find it boring, but there was just _something_ about reading his untidy handwriting and listening to these songs which had an impact on his life that just.. Evoked feelings.

Kelly nodded sympathetically. "Is it… That time?"

"No," Pam laughed, and the somber moment was over.

(For now, at least.)

* * *

 _sent 17:01_

 _TO: Kelly Kapoor_

 _FROM: Jim_

 _i wont say anything, don't worry._

 _is she okay though?_

 _read 17:04_

.

 _sent 17:04_

 _TO: Jim_

 _FROM: Kelly Kapoor_

 _she's fine. gtg. talk later ;)))))_

 _read 17:05_

* * *

The trek back to the Dunder-Mifflin block, and further upstairs to his room, seemed to Jim to take almost as long as his last business class.

After around 10 minutes of walking, a further 10 minutes of arguing with Dwight over whether he should be allowed to listen to music in his own room, and 5 minutes of searching for his old portable CD-player, he was finally reading to just press "play."

He kicked off his shoes and lay back on the narrow bed, balancing the player on his stomach and holding Pam's letter above his head to read.

He pressed the button. A cheery piano riff filled his ears, and he unfolded the letter.

 _"Dear Jim,_

 _Here are some songs I like that I thought you might like as well. Maybe. I tried not to make this too cheesy or John Hughes or anything like that. Also, I refrained from putting too many Ingrid Michaelson songs on here. (There's only one! Success!)_

 _Anyway, I hope you enjoy this. Also, I hope that this beats your mixtape. I think it probably will._

 _Love,_

 _Pam."_

Even though he knew she didn't mean it, couldn't possibly mean it, his heart did a little flutter when he came to the end. "Love, Pam." The words flashed in his mind, over and over again, and he traced the two little words with his finger before moving on.

 _"One - The Calculation by Regina Spektor_

"So we made our own computer out of macaroni pieces / And it did our thinking while we lived our lives"

 _I think this was played at my junior high prom. It was really awkward and the songs for the most part were terrible, but this one stuck in my head. I really like her voice, and this song really resonates with me. The lyrics are a bit random, but I like to think it's about the mathematics of love - how it's not just a calculation or formula or anything like that, it's more complicated, and more simple._

 _Two - How We Love by Ingrid Michaelson (shut up!)_

"We love to love when it fills up the room / But when it leaves we're cursing the stars"

 _This is one of the cliched high-school-drama songs I used to listen lying on my bed, with the lights off, just staring at the ceiling for about an hour. I like songs that tell a story, and this one is heartbreaking._

 _Three - Welcome Home, Son by Radical Face_

"Heal the scars off from my back / I don't need them anymore / You can throw them out or keep them in your mason jars"

 _I think I only discovered this one a couple of days before I left to come here. I listened to it about 6 times on the drive here. It's a song i'm always going to associate with leaving home, weirdly, and the scenery flying past the window as I drove to a new place._

 _Four - Brave by Sara Bareilles_

"You could be the outcast / Or be the backlash of somebody's lack of love / Or you can start speaking up"

 _This song is suuuuper cheesy. And this is getting weirdly personal now, but I guess you've noticed I don't have the courage of some other people. Sometimes when I feel hopeless, i listen to this. The beat is just so catchy! And the lyrics feel like a lecture, but in a good way, because they force me to actually listen to them. Sometimes this works, sometimes it doesn't, but I still love the song!_

 _Five - Vienna by Billy Joel_

"You know that when the truth is told / You can get what you want or you can just get old"

 _This is pretty much where the strangely personal songs kick in. I sometimes feel like I'm not accomplishing enough for my age. I mean, I'm 18 (nearly 19!) but all I've done so far is graduate high school and win a sophomore art contest. I guess it's more prominent when i think about art, because I'd really like to make a career out of that someday, but so far I've… Not. Sometimes, i need to remind myself that I'm still young, and there's still time. I don't know._

 _(Also, say what you want about Joel or his songwriting abilities. This song is great!)_

 _Six - Life On Mars? by David Bowie_

"Now she walks through her sunken dream / To the seat with the clearest view / And she's hooked to the silver screen"

 _Remember how I liked songs that tell a story? And how this was going to be deeply personal from now on? Yeah._

 _Reality can be boring. I've just started College, I'm 18, and I'm doing what millions of people have already done before me. I've had a boring life so far, all things considered, and I'll probably be destined to live a boring life after this, too. I like art and films and books, because even when things seem normal, they're somehow never BORING. I like that notion, because yeah, I'd like a normal life, but I don't want to be in this perpetual state of revised boredom for the rest of my life, you know?_

 _Seven - Teen Idle by Marina and the Diamonds_

"The wasted years, the wasted youth / The pretty lies, the ugly truth / And the day has come when I have died / Only to find I've come alive"

 _My high school experience wasn't what I'd imagined it to be, when I was in elementary/middle school. I'd always thought I'd be quite popular, and get to go to parties, and have a large group of misfit yet supportive friends who cared for me and stayed with me through thick and thin. Obviously, no high school is like that - this isn't a John Hughes movie! - but I think I just sort of… Floated through high school. I don't have any great memories from those 4 years, I didn't go to any clubs, I just got my grades and got out. I wish I'd made more of it, you know?_

 _My friend Emily went to Manchester back in junior year, and when she came back she brought with her a tonne of British music I'd never heard before. Marina and the Diamonds was one of the people she recommended, and this is my favourite song of hers._

 _Eight - Send Me On My Way by Rusted Root (end of the personal angst! Yay!)_

"Well, pick me up with golden hands / I may see you, I may tell you to run"

 _(Not gonna lie, I had to look up the lyrics for this. I could never make them out!)_

 _Remember Matilda? The breakfast scene? This was my favourite song for like a year after I first watched that movie, and during the course of elementary through most of middle school I thought I'd forgotten about it._

 _Whenever I hear this I just get a nice nostalgic feeling, you know? It reminds me of watching Matilda for the first time, and hiding under blanket burritos and drinking hot chocolate and trying to use my nonexistent powers of telekinesis. It's simple, and fun._

 _Well, that's this done. I'll see you soon. Your playlist WILL NOT beat this, I swear!_

 _Love,_

 _Pam"_

Jim closed his eyes as the last song started to fade out. He allowed himself to overthink everything, just for a moment - _love Pam; love Pam; love?_ \- before slipping into unassuming best friend mode.

His fingers shook, though not from nervousness, as he typed out a message:

 _._

 _TO: Beesly_

 _FROM: Jim_

 _just listened to your playlist._

 _i'm ashamed to say that it does, in fact, beat my mixtape._

.

Pam replied immediately:

 _._

 _TO: Jim Halpert_

 _FROM: Pam_

 _:)_


	17. that'd be cool and safe

**pam's birthday!** **(or at least, the beginnings of it...) i wasn't sure when her birthday is canonically, (apparently its in march?) but for the purposes of this fic it's october 21st. :)**

 **also, I've made a minor setback to the plot, as i was unaware that americans get time off from school for thanksgiving! (seriously i had no idea!) but it won't make any huge differences.**

 **title taken from: "Drunk Text Romance" by Cyberbully Mom Club :)**

* * *

The leaves were starting to turn brown, and the nights became freezing, and somehow the beginning of October passed largely without any incidents.

October 21st was going to be a special day, this year. Jim had it marked specifically on his calendar, the one he was supposed to use for schoolwork but didn't.

Pam's birthday.

He had been counting down pretty much since she told him the date, and now, it was only 3 days away.

He had a few things planned, but the main event, he hoped, would be the card. He had picked it out specially for her, putting more effort into finding the perfect birthday card than he did for most classes. It looked pretty simple; the front read _"Happy Birthday!"_ in golden cursive, with eh outline of a party hat, and the inside was blank… Until now.

Birthdays, he supposed, were the best times to tell people how you really felt about them.

* * *

"So, what were you thinking of doing for your birthday?" Kelly asked, yanking a hair tie from her head.

Pam was a little surprised she even remembered that her birthday was coming up, especially considering she hadn't really made a big deal out of it this year. "Nothing, really. I'll probably just invite a couple people up here - Jim, maybe Ryan - for an hour or so, if that's okay."

Kelly nodded, solemnly. "I'll make sure Ryan comes."

"Thanks. Oh, and, uh, Roy's coming."

"Really?" Kelly finally managed to untangle the hair tie, and shook out her hair before searching her bed for a brush.

"Yeah." Pam nodded, feeling herself become more excited as she explained. "He said he's definitely going to make it. He'll have to cut a couple of classes, but he said he won't miss it for the world."

"That's awesome, Pam! I'm really happy for you. You guys'll be _so_ cute together!" Kelly squealed, jumping up from her bed to go hug her friend.

* * *

"What's it like to be almost 19?" Jim asked, in lieu of a hello.

The cafeteria was, thankfully, pretty quiet. He and Pam had started taking their lunch breaks a little earlier than most people did, in order to not have to deal with the wrath of Dwight over lunch.

"What's it like being indistinguishable from a high school student?"

"Touche." He set down his tray - tuna sandwich, grape soda, a plastic carton of fruit; the usual - and slid into the seat across from Pam.

"I'm actually a little nervous, to be honest."

"For your birthday? Why?"

She let out a heavy sigh, shoulders slumped. "I just feel like it might be a little weird, you know? It's my first birthday spent away from home, away from family. It just feels a kind of… Off, to be spending my 19th birthday in a boring, grey-brick building."

"I beg to differ. Dunder-Mifflin is the most exciting grey-brick building I've ever seen."

She laughed, and for the first time since the previous day, her mood lifted a little. After a slight pause, she changed topics. "So, what do we have in store for Dwight today?"

Jim launched into the plan for their classmate - it was pretty good, if he said so himself; it involved a fake phone call, a couple of "private" whisper-conversations with Pam, and a rubber pig - and before they knew it, it was time for class.

* * *

The day had been entirely uneventful, as most days in this school had went. The highlight, as per usual, had been joking around with Pam, and he kept this in mind as he opened her birthday card flat out on his desk.

He had already decided to not just go for the usual _"happy birthday!"_ spiel.

Because this was Pam, and she deserved more than that.

(Because this was Pam, and he knew at this point that he probably loved her.)

He wanted to tell her how he really felt. How he had, perhaps, been feeling ever since he first met her.

 _"Dear Pam-"_

His hand was shaking. What could he say next? Why was just writing this down - writing down the thoughts he had running through his head at all time of the day - so painfully awkward, so difficult?

 _'Good to know I'm not the only one whose roommate is insane.'_

Pam was the first person he had met in this place who he really felt a connection with. Dwight was just… Dwight. Even Ryan did not see eye-to-eye with Jim, despite all the things they seemed to have in common.

Talking to Pam was easy, and maybe that was the trick.

He just had to write what he wanted to say to he whenever they were together.

 _'I'm not the one standing outside at 3am in my underwear.'_

Jim was never a fast writer, but the words just seemed to be falling out onto the page. He wrote what he felt, he wrote what he wanted to say, he wrote what he thought could happen, and he wrote what he dreamed.

 _'You somehow look worse now than you did before.'_

She laughed at him. Jim was used to people laughing at him and laughing with him - he was a pretty funny guy, after all - but Pam was different. When Pam laughed at him, he felt his chest soar.

 _'I thought you might want to be saved from sitting with Dwight.'_

His writing was tiny, and there were a few more things he wanted to say, but he had run out of space on the card. There was a few centimetres of space left at the bottom, so he quickly signed it:

 _"Love from_ _, Jim."_

* * *

 _sent 20:48_

TO: Pam

FROM: Roy Anderson

sorry, cant make ur bday. kennys taking the riders down to the lake, said i would go. ill make it up to u when u come for thanksgiving ;)

 _read 20:49_


	18. flying horses

**this chapter was pretty hard to write for some reason. idk. thanks for the continued reviews :D**

 **title taken from: "Flying Horses" by Dispatch**

* * *

The party - if you could even call it that - was about to begin. Pam had set everything up in the dorm room to make things look somewhat exciting: she had shoved all her course work to one side, and placed her bags and coats and scarf into the closet, and even taken down the study guide she had pinned above her desk. Soft music was playing in the background (she had toyed with the idea of playing Jim's tape, but then she remembered that other people would be coming and she didn't really want anyone else to hear it.)

Kelly complained a lot about Pam's efforts - "Seriously, Pam, this looks like it's for an 8-year-old. Couldn't you at least get some booze in here?" - but had settled down in the past hour, after she apparently realised there was nothing she could do. It was Pam's birthday, after all.

She had asked everyone to arrive at around 7. It was now 5 past, and there was no sign of anyone. Even though she knew rationally that this meant nothing, she couldn't help but worry a little. What if no one showed up? Or, what if people did show up, but took one look at the place and immediately side with Kelly? What if they forgot? What if he-

Nope.

She definitely was _not_ going to allow herself to think like that. At least, not until half 7.

As it turned out, she needn't have waited, because within a couple of minutes there was a sharp knock at the door.

It wasn't Kelly, as she never knocked, and so Pam knew that her first guest had arrived.

"Come in!"

Jim opened the door, dressed in a grey sweatshirt and jeans, the usual. He gave her a goofy grin when they locked eyes. "Hey, 19-year-old!"

"Hey, youngster."

He was carrying a box, with a card taped to the side. After politely asking her whether she preferred the door to be open or closed, (open), he took a seat on her bed. The box was still clutched in his hands.

"So, what's been happening in the past hour since I last saw you?"

"Oh, nothing much. Tidying. Trying to make this place look presentable, and gently refusing Kelly's _help_."

"I see." He nodded understandingly. "You look great, by the way."

She hadn't tried too hard when getting dressed up. A red dress, with the skirt hanging just above her knees. She kept a black cardigan folded over her desk chair in case she got cold.

"Thanks." She smiled to him, but then realised what she was doing, and promptly directed her gaze to the floor. It was only then that it occurred to her that she should probably give him a compliment back, so she added, lamely, "you too."

"Thanks." He ran a hand through his hair and hummed, low in his throat. After waiting for a little too long for things to feel entirely un-awkward, he asked, with obvious feigned interest: "Um, is Roy coming? Just, Kelly said he was, and it'd be cool to meet him, I guess. I mean, we've technically met before, I know, but that's not in real life, or anything - I mean, it was in real life, it just wasn't-"

"You ramble when you're nervous." Pam noted out loud. She surprised herself; she didn't usually just tell people what she was thinking.

Jim looked almost as awkward as she, now, felt. He stumbled to correct himself - "Sorry, I really didn't mean for that to sound… Like, I seriously do-"

"No, it's fine. Um." She wondered how to phrase the next thing she had to say. He couldn't come, wouldn't come, to her birthday party. It made him seem like a bad person. "He can't make it. He has a huge test tomorrow, so I said he should probably stay back, to study."

"Oh." He seemed shocked, but not unconvinced of her lie. "That's a shame. I'm sorry."

She shook her head. "It's nothing. I'm going home for Thanksgiving, anyway, so I'll be able to see him then."

"Yeah."

Kelly chose that moment to burst through the door, with Ryan on her arm like a trophy wife. Or, like a Beverly Hills chihuahua.

"Oh, hey, Jim!"

"Hey." He greeted her with a warm smile, and an inconspicuous sympathetic glance towards Ryan.

Kelly flopped down onto her own bed, dragging Ryan with her. "Is this it?"

"Huh?"

"Like, is anyone else coming?"

"Oh. Well, I invited Dwight." Pam shared a glance with Jim. He shot her a grin that reminded her of History.

"Cool."

"So, when are we exchanging gifts?" Kelly asked, allowing Ryan to let go of her hand for a second, only to wipe his hand on his thigh. "Because, no offence, but I was kind of hoping this wouldn't go on for too long. Just, me and Ryan sort of have plans, you know?"

"That's fine." Pam answered, twisting a part of her hair around her hand. "I guess Dwight should be here, soon. I invited a couple of other people, too, but I don't think they're coming."

"Really?" Jim sounded interested. "Who?"

"Um, Angela from down the hall, and Oscar, I think." The former had been on an impulse decision, created when Angela overheard her talking about it to Kelly in the hallway and immediately shot her a disapproving glare. "I don't think Angela's coming, though, and Oscar might not, either, so-"

She was interrupted by what sounded like a bull. Dwight threw open the door, carrying nothing but a thin paper package, and sporting an aged pair of Birkenstocks on his feet, complete with what appeared to be tube socks.

" _Why_ did you throw the door open like that?" Jim gestured in his roommate's general direction.

"I always enter rooms quickly, and forcefully." He stated, taking a seat on the wooden end of Pam's bed. "It allows me to catch people in the act. I wanted to make sure you guys' weren't using this room for sex."

"What the Hell, Dwight?" Pam asked, no longer caring whether he took offence to what she said or not. "Who gave you that idea?"

He shifted on his perch, and evasively answered: "There have been _some_ concerns from _certain people_ living on this floor."

"Ugh, whatever." Kelly shook her head, seemingly gripping Ryan's hand even tighter. "Let's just get to gift-swapping."

"Okay."

Kelly reached down the side of her bed to pull out a slim gift bag. She peeked in it once before handing it to Pam.

"Thanks!" She gave her most convincing smile, and opened the gift.

She was surprised to find that it was actually a pretty considerate present. Wrapped in about 3 layers of multicoloured tissue paper was a pink-coloured wooden picture frame, and tucked in beside it, a pale blue beaded bracelet. "Wow, this is beautiful."

"I know." Kelly grinned. "You're _so_ welcome."

Pam was admiring her presents when Ryan cleared his throat, awkwardly.

"We should probably get going."

"Oh! Yeah, sure, no problem."

"Thanks." He managed to stand without Kelly ever letting go of his hand, and together they somehow manoeuvred through the door and into the hall.

Dwight moved over to Kelly's bed, and adjusted the position of his glasses on his nose. "I did not realise you would be expecting gifts." At Jim's eye-roll, he explained: "In the Schrute family, we do not celebrate birthdays."

"O-kay…"

"Hey!" Jim seemed to have picked up on the fact that the 'party' wasn't going so great. "I brought you something."

"Oh?"

"Yep." He leaned down to grab the box, and as he did, the tail of his shirt slid up, exposing a tiny sliver of his skin.

She stared for longer than was entirely necessary, and had to wait a second to compose herself before thanking him for the gift.

(She ignored the fact that she could feel her cheeks burning, and the fact that she was pretty sure Dwight saw everything.)

Gingerly, she lifted the flaps of the box. When she realised what was inside, she let out a small squeal of excitement.

It wasn't anything too extravagant, not really, but it did mean a lot, and she told him so, profusely, whilst turning over and examining the kettle in her hands.

"I just remembered you said you wished you had a kettle for your room to make tea without having to go all the way to the kitchen." Jim said, modestly. He had a permanent smile on his face.

"I love it." She sat in gently on her desk. "Thank you, again."

"No problem, Beesly. I mean, it's your birthday, after all."

She twisted, stiffly, to the side and stretched out an arm to give him a poorly-executed hug.

"No card, though?" She asked when they moved apart. "That's pretty cold, Halpert."

"I thought the kettle would speak for itself." He replied, sheepishly, although there was something unidentifiable in his expression.

"I have a card." Dwight piped up. He held out a slim envelope, printed simply with her name.

"Thank you, Dwight." He hadn't even bothered to seal the envelope shut, so the card slipped out when she grabbed it the wrong way.

 _"TO PAM,_

 _IT IS YOUR BIRTHDAY._

 _FROM, DWIGHT."_

It made a lot of sense.

* * *

The gathering fizzled out soon after that, though Pam wasn't bothered. It had been a pleasant evening, if a little awkward, and she had always preferred personal get-togethers over huge birthday parties, anyway.

Jim was the last to leave, although she guessed it was out of obligation more than anything. He presently was leaning against the door frame, and Pam was mustering up the courage to _just say something_ , to diffuse the awkwardness somehow.

"I guess I'll get going."

"Yeah, sure." She glanced back, quickly, to the kettle. It was sat on her desk, still in the box, as she hadn't wanted to take it out while other people were there, lest it get damaged. "Thanks again, for the birthday present."

"It's no problem." He gave her a lop-sided, tired grin, and tapped the frame sharply. "Um, I'll just-"

"Yeah."

He straightened and jammed both hands into his pockets. "Bye, Beesly. And happy birthday."

"Bye."

When he turned to leave, she could have sworn she saw a white envelope poking out of his sleeve.

* * *

 **NOTE: I'll be on hiatus during all of November, but until then the schedule will remain. (Doing NaNoWriMo again this year!)**


	19. i'm still ready to dream

**i'd like to just preface this by saying: i know this situation doesnt really make a whole lot of sense in the au/world/whatever that's been established so far. i wanted to find a way to integrate the events of Booze Cruise somehow, because that arc is really important to their relationship and suff, especially in late s2/s3, and this seemed the most plausible way to put it into this au.**

 **anyways, thanks as always for reading/reviewing. :)**

 **title taken from: "Whistle For The Choir" by The Fratellis**

* * *

It was only a few hours _after_ his fatal mistake that Jim realised the true potential consequences of what he had just done.

Oh, shit.

* * *

It all started when Mr. Scott announced to his class that he was conducting free "therapy-slash-guidance-slash-brotime" after certain classes. (And Pam made a joke about how he was most definitely a murderer looking for his next victim and Jim had added some stupid tagline to that and she had held his hand when she shook with laughter and he didn't remember much after that and-)

Anyway.

He hadn't given much thought to it at first. It just seemed like the usual insignificant one-time-wonder things Scott pulled at least once a week. Dwight would probably go, and when their professor realised that Dwight K Schrute was the only student remotely interested in his stunt, he would give it up after only a couple of runs. It happened all the time, and this time was certainly not going to be any different.

Except, his best friend (who he was definitely not secretly in love with, not one bit, nope) was being extra chipper and - confident? - than usual. Except, this best friend of his was joking around and shoving him and laughing a lot more than usual. Except, he wasn't sure how much more of this he could take, if it was all bottled up inside.

(He felt like a shaken-up soda in a cheap plastic bottle.)

And it wasn't as though there was anyone _else_ he could talk to about… Everything. Pam was out of the question, of course. Telling Kelly about all of this was potentially worse than blurting it out to Pam's face, considering how bad Kelly was at keeping secrets like this. And Dwight, well.

The idea (the stupid, stupid, stupid idea) didn't come to him until much later, although it was well on its' way to erupting.

* * *

"Tuna sandwich, again?"

Jim looked up from his aforementioned pathetic lunch, only to be met with the crinkled-eye gaze of Pam.

"I thought you weren't coming today."

"Plans changed. Roy cancelled, I think there's a game on." She shrugged it off, like she was used to this happening. "So," she half-sighed, clasping her hands together on the table, like a prayer, or a business meeting.

"So."

"Are you going to the therapy-slash-guidance-slash-guys-night-in with Mr. Scott?"

"Therapy-slash-guidance-slash- _brotime_ , Pam." He corrected. "And, absolutely."

She laughed again, but was trying hard to remain composed. "Definitely. I'm glad to know we have a qualified therapist on campus."

"Yeah. Otherwise, all kinds of mental health problems might be activated."

"Somehow, I think more mental health problems will be activated _with_ his help, rather than without."

Jim chuckled, conceding, and took another bite of his sandwich. He was probably a little too aware of Pam watching him from across the table.

* * *

"You should be revising your notes from today's classes."

"Maybe."

Dwight tapped his pen against his desk irritably. "Not _maybe_. Do you realise how important this class is?"

Jim had only just opened his mouth to respond when Dwight interrupted him.

"Actually, no, I doubt you even care about any of that. You're too busy with-"

" _Dwight_."

"-Pam."

"You're the worst. Also, incorrect. I do care about this class, I'm just not as stalker-obsessed with Mr. Scott as you are."

Dwight shook his head, continuing his frantic chicken-scratch across his notebook. After a moment, he scoffed. "That's ironic. You're calling me obsessed?"

Jim knew what he was getting at, and found it more advantageous in this moment to just keep quiet. Maybe the age-old advice, _'just ignore them and they'll stop',_ would actually work.

"I know what you wrote in her birthday card, last week." It was such a _Dwight_ thing to do, to bring up the one thing he knew he had been hoping not to have to talk about. But his roommate's tone of voice had changed; it was softer now, almost friendly.

"Not relevant."

"Maybe." The next part was strained, but friendly, like a stranger trying to make polite conversation to the person sat next to them on a long airplane flight. "I don't get why you didn't give it to her."

If he was waiting for a response, he definitely wasn't getting one right now. "I'm going out."

"You better be back before floor curfew." Dwight warned, but Jim was already out the door.

* * *

He didn't realise where he was headed until it was too late. By this point, he guessed, he was just on autopilot.

Kelly had her back to the door, and practically squealed when she caught sight of him, walking towards her in what probably seemed like a zombie - eyes glazed over, no sense of direction, except for needing to get to the one thing he wanted most right now.

But.

"Shh, Jim, Pam's… Busy." Kelly let out, all in one breath, as per usual.

"Huh?"

"Roy, her boyfriend - oh, it's so cute I can't even stand it, Jim, really, I just can't believe-"

"Kelly."

"Oh! Yeah, he called her up about a half hour ago, and they're Skyping right now. He's _so_ _sweet_ , just apologising and trying to make it up to her for missing her birthday last week. It's so cute, seriously. He's going to drive up here to pick her up for Thanksgiving. And after that, I just left, you know, because I guessed they would prefer their privacy…" She broke off into giggles, and Jim knew he probably wouldn't get anymore information from her.

"Oh." He needed to collect his thoughts. "That's… I mean, tell her for me, that's great that they've made up."

"Yeah, sure, sure." A thought seemed to strike her, and she physically jumped, as was her custom to do so in these circumstances. "What was it you wanted?"

"Nothing, really. Just passing through. On my way to-" (and the words slipped out before he even knew what he was saying, even paid attention to where his thoughts were heading) "-History."

* * *

And, there he was.

Standing outside Mr. Scott's classroom,wondering whether he had to write his name on the empty sign-up sheet hung on the back of his door, or if he could just walk right in.

(On second thoughts, he didn't really want anyone else to know that he had actually came here, so it was probably best to to just walk in and hope for the best.)

"Jim Halpert!" Scott seemed genuinely surprised that someone had actually shown up. He sat alone in the class, nursing a glass of what looked like gas-station wine in one hand and a book on psychotherapy in the other.

"Um, hey." He shifted from foot to foot, already regretting this decision. "I was just wondering if you could fit me in an appointment?"

"Of course!" He lunged forwards to grab a chair, dragging it towards him until it was directly in front of his desk. "Anything for my favourite pupil."

"Okay." He smoothed his hands down on his thighs and wandered over to the empty chair, wondering what exactly his chances of being murdered here were.

"So," Scott began, once Jim was settled. "I think I should start off by apologising for the lack of a couch, you know, like on TV - I asked for one, but staff says no - but I hope the chair will be good."

"It's fine."

"Let's get started, then!" He sounded way too chipper to be a supposed therapist. "Um," he paused to collect a clipboard and pen, "so, is there anything you really need to talk about?"

 _What am I doing here?_ He couldn't help but think. He craned his neck to look around the room, just for something to do to show he was thinking. The classroom looked a whole lot different at night. The sun was setting outside, and it made all the shadows in the room ominous, leering, creepy. The whole area was kind of desolate when there were no pupils there. Lonely.

And then, at the back. The desk. (Appearing to have been made to sit 4 pupils, rather than 2.)

And suddenly he was just full of the strange compulsion to just _speak_ , to let it all out, because really, this had gone on for far too long and his reckless optimism that someday, maybe, _she_ would finally understand, was running low recently.

"I have this friend." He began, speaking slowly so as not to get too carried away.

Scott made some approving noise, scribbling something down on the single sheet of paper.

"And things are… They're not great, because she has this boyfriend - long distance, but they seem really close - and he's, um, he's just not… Great." He finished lamely, but really, that was the only way to put it. He wanted to refrain from spending the entire evening ranting about his best friend's boyfriend.

"Anyway," he sighed, running a hand down his face and definitely regretting his decision to talk about _this_ to Mr. Scott, of all people. "I'm honestly not sure how much more of this I can take."

Scott had apparently abandoned his goal of noting everything said in the meeting, as his clipboard lay untouched on his lap. He leaned forwards in his chair. "So, why don't you just, you know… Tell her how you feel?"

"I tried. I wrote her a card."

(It was going to be romantic, it was going to be a great moment. When he played it out in his head beforehand, he thought about how he could present it to her with a sort of flourish, and she'd read it and he could watch her reactions, and she would finally understand.

And maybe, just maybe, she would feel the same way. But he really didn't let himself get that far.)

"And?"

"I chickened out, of course. I don't know. She just looked really happy, and she mentioned that her boyfriend wasn't coming after all, which I know should have presented the best opportunity possible, but it was also her birthday party and I just…" He allowed himself to trail off, shaking his head. "If it all went wrong, if she got creeped out or whatever… That would've been her party _over_. I could've ruined the whole thing; she'd have to relive whatever horrible awkward moment I'd just caused whenever she thought about her 19th birthday, you know? And I don't - I don't want to lose her friendship, really, I don't want to lose _that_."

"Uh-huh." Scott nodded, pensively. After a moment, he furrowed his brow and asked: "So, you're talking about Pam Beesly, right?"

(Uh oh.)

What had he just done?

Mr. Scott was probably the worst possible person to confide in, especially about something as personal as this.

"Um, I need to go." He got up, wiping his hands on his jeans, mind whirring. "Sorry."

"Oh. Okay!" He followed suit. "Good session. I feel like we really were successful in unlocking all those… Memories…." It was obvious he had absolutely no idea what he was talking about, but that didn't matter to Jim, as he was already half-out the door.

* * *

Overall, it probably wasn't his best idea.

* * *

 **the next chapter is probably going to be building up to Halloween (i tried to make it somewhat seasonal, but unfortunately due to the pacing of this part of the fic I couldn't get it to match up completely.)**


	20. just another season

Jim had been acting strange all week. Their conversations had been short and awkward, and Pam knew he had been avoiding her lately.

Upon reflection, it had started just after her birthday party. And ever since then… Well.

Let's just say they hadn't eaten lunch together in 5 days, and the last time they spoke for more than 2 minutes was 3 days ago.

And she missed him. Kelly was great and all, and even Dwight was fun in his own way, but hanging out with Jim was always special, and he could always just _understand_ her, he always knew what she was thinking.

It was the same story even in class. The other day she had drawn a little caricature of Mr. Scott in the margin of her notebook and slid it over to him, expecting a chuckle or even a small drawing in response, but all he did was smile and push it back to her.

Something was up, and she was determined to find out what it was.

* * *

"Have you seen Jim?"

Dwight was the only one who showed up to lunch that day.

"No." He proceeded to shovel more macaroni and cheese into his mouth.

"Well, have you seen him at any point other than at night the past couple of days?"

"Yes."

"Okay." She sighed. "Where? And, when?"

Dwight made a humming noise in the back of his throat, and Pam waited for him to finish his mouthful.

"Class."

 _Well, that was an anti-climax._

"I haven't seen him much recently, is all." She slumped over her panini, still left untouched. "I was wondering if anything happened to…" She trailed off. To what, exactly? To make him mad at her? To make him think _she_ was mad at _him_?

"My condolences." He replied, dryly. "He's probably just pulling a dumb prank. That's all he ever seems to be doing."

"Yeah, maybe."

* * *

 _sent 16:42_

TO: Jim Halpert

FROM: Pam

are you ok?

 _read 16:47_

* * *

It was almost midnight, and as per usual on days like these, Pam was sat at her tiny desk, working on her Art class theory homework.

Kelly was, for once, still in the room - lying on her bed, squinting up at the magazine she held above her head, headphones on, with Ellie Goulding blaring so loud that Pam could even hear it.

Her phone buzzed, and she immediately grabbed at it, glad to be relieved of the boredom of homework.

 _._

 _sent 23:51_

TO: Pam

FROM: Jim Halpert

sorry i didn't reply sooner, was busy. i'm fine, why?

.

She wasn't sure how he could possibly have been "busy" for the past 7 hours, but she honestly was just happy to be talking to him again.

 _._

 _sent 11:53_

TO: Jim Halpert

FROM: Pam

we haven't really talked in a while. i was just worried.

 _read 11:55_

 _._

His response took a while. Waiting nervously, Pam was tapping the side of her pen against her leg and focusing on the soft beats emanating from Kelly's side of the room.

.

 _sent 00:06_

TO: Pam

FROM: Jim Halpert

? we talked in class yesterday!

 _read 00:06_

 _._

 _sent 00:08_

TO: Jim Halpert

FROM: Pam

asking how to spell "mississippi" doesn't count as talking!

 _read 00:09_

 _._

 _sent 00:12_

TO: Pam

FROM: Jim Halpert

it so does! anyway. i've been busy. business is getting hard. :/

.

Pam frowned at his last text. It sounded genuine, but she was still hurt.

She tapped out a response and hovered her thumb over the _send_ icon before making her decision.

.

 _sent 00:17_

TO: Jim Halpert

FROM: Pam

its okay

 _read 00:19_

 _._

Her phone stayed silent after that.

* * *

 **title taken from: "Baby Fratelli" by The Fratellis**


	21. i can't believe my eyes

**another shorter chapter, however I've been trying to time what will be next week's chapter to Halloween,so.**

 **thanks for reading/reviewing :)**

 **title taken from: "What's This?" by Fall Out Boy (bc, seasonal and everything)**

* * *

"Looking forward to Halloween this year?"

Dwight nodded enthusiastically, smiling genuinely for what appeared to be the first time in a long, long time, going by the pain it seemed to cause him. "Mose and I host a scary harvest night every October 31st, on the farm. Desperate stepparents are willing to pay anything to bond with their stepkids." He looked around the table. "We make a small fortune, every year."

"Glad to know you're able to profit off of one of the most fun holidays for children." Jim punctuated his statement with a _can you believe this?_ look towards Pam, who rolled her eyes in response.

"So, is anyone going to the Halloween party in the halls?" Kelly asked, impatiently, as if she'd been waiting for the question to come up. At everyone else's silence, she added, exasperatedly, "I honestly can't believe you people. It'll be so fun!"

"I might go." Pam said. She shot Kelly a tentative half-smile. "It'll be better than just sitting around studying."

"I guess I'll stop by, too." Jim added, perhaps too quickly to be convincingly coincidental.

"That's great!" Kelly squealed. "We can go in a group, like the Breakfast Club or whatever. I'll ask Ryan!"

Once it was confirmed that Ryan _might_ be coming, depending on a whole load of random, unconnected variables, Kelly proceeded to work out a game plan. In the end, it wasn't really all that complicated: she and Pam would get ready in their own dorm, and then they could all meet up in the courtyard outside their block to walk to the party together.

And Jim was actually pretty excited for it. Halloween wasn't really his thing, and usually, neither were parties, but he guessed that with the right company, it could actually be _fun_.

LINE BREAK

Pam, thankfully, seemed to have given up the idea of questioning him about his aloofness the past few days. Instead, she was a lot more Pam-like than usual. Joking around and being able to make biting retorts at the drop of a hat. It reminded him of the first time they met.

Presently, she was sidling up to his chair in a conspiratorial way, ensuring that he definitely would not be focusing on the lecture Mr. Scott was giving.

"What?"

"I was just wondering what you'd be going as for the Halloween party tomorrow."

"Um," What _would_ he be going as? Costumes really weren't his thing. "It's a surprise."

"Uh-huh." She raised an eyebrow at him.

"What're you going as, then?"

"It's a surprise."

He faked a laugh, trying not to stare too obviously at how her eyes crinkled when she squinted in that teasing manner, how the corners of her mouth twitched when she was trying to hold back a smile.

LINE BREAK

The rest of the day passed largely without incident, and all too soon, Jim was standing in front of his tiny wardrobe, trying to find a makeshift last-minute Halloween costume.

Dwight suggested he go as himself, as his normal face was "terrifying enough", but he guessed he would have to actually find a proper outfit.

The last time he put any effort into dressing up for Halloween had to have been 6th Grade, maybe 5th. By the time the next year had come around, he just figured he'd grown out of it.

Just when he was wondering just how terrible it would be to take Dwight's suggestion into serious consideration, an idea finally dawned on him. It wasn't the best, but it would have to do - and it seemed just clever enough to be easily accepted that he put effort into choosing it.

Yeah, this year was gonna be good.


	22. it's you, it's me, it's dancing

**title taken from: "You! Me! Dancing!" by Los Campesinos! (which is such a good, happy, dance-y, PB &J song btw) **

**thank to everyone who's been reading/reviewing so far, and i hope you'll stick around for december :D**

 **just reminding everyone again that i'm on hiatus for all of November due to NaNoWriMo, but i'll be back on the 4th of December with a new chapter!**

* * *

The day - or night, rather - of the Halloween party was appropriately dark and stormy, and so, as she was halfway out the door, Pam made sure to grab a jacket, just in case.

She was wearing the same costume she had worn last year - although, as this was a new school with new people, she doubted it made a difference. It was pretty simple; just a black turtleneck, thick leggings, some cat ears and whiskers, but it was comfortable, and, as Kelly put it: "Not too slutty."

Kelly herself was wearing a costume similar to that of Dorothy from _Wizard of Oz._ Pam had helped braid her hair, as though they were in middle school or something.

They made their way to the elevators, Kelly chattering excitedly along the way. "… I have a feeling that tonight's gonna be a really good night, you know?" She was saying, shooting an anxious look to her companion. "It will, won't it? I really hope it'll be good."

"I'm sure it will." Pam gave her a reassuring smile. "Halloween's always fun, right?"

* * *

The guys were already there - Ryan too, surprisingly. Their backs were facing Pam and Kelly, and from the limited light let out by the flickering wall lamp, it was difficult to tell what they were wearing.

"Hey," she said, just to make them turn around.

Jim turned to the sound of her voice. "Oh, hey!" He seemed to be wearing normal, everyday clothes, though there were a couple of dark spots on his shirt.

Ryan donned a white teeshirt and black leather jacket, and his usual expression of perpetual boredom.

"Ready to go? We've been waiting for a while."

"Sure." Kelly spoke for them both.

They all took off into the impending blackness, slowly, Kelly immediately took hold of Ryan's arm and half-dragged him along with her, so Pam and Jim sort of fell behind, just as usual.

"I can't really make out what your costume is," Pam remarked, falling into step with her friend.

He gestured to the dark spots on his shirt. "I'm three-hole-punch-Jim. See?"

Pam rolled her eyes at his lack of effort, but eventually conceded. "Okay, it's pretty funny."

"Told you it'd be good!" He dodged her shove. "Anyway. I like your costume." He punctuated this with a short, albeit sort of misplaced, pause. "It's cute."

"Thanks," she directed her gaze at the ground, suddenly thankful for darkness that the night was offering them. She only allowed herself to look up once more when she was sure her cheeks had returned to their usual colour.

* * *

The party was actually a little busier than Pam expected - she had guessed it would be pretty small and boring, due to it being a student-body-organised event, but there were quite a lot of people there. Music was blaring, with the current song seeming to be - at least, according to the drunken howls of the few seniors present - _Werewolves of London_. Someone had installed a smoke machine in one corner of the small hall, giving the place a nice ambient aspect to it.

"Told you guys it wouldn't be totally lame!" Kelly exclaimed, mostly to Ryan.

"I guess," her date replied.

Pam continued her look around, trying to spot anyone she knew from classes. The only people outside their group who she was really friends with was Oscar, though she didn't spot him there. Kevin Malone, from Art, was there, talking in the corner with a couple of guys she'd never seen before, as well as a girl Pam only knew from her extensive reputation, Meredith Palmer. (Who presently was drunkenly attempting to dance up on an unsuspecting Junior.)

She was brought back to reality by a finger-snap from Kelly. "Um, hello?"

"Sorry. What did you-"

"Me and Ryan are going to dance, maybe do a lap of the place to see who we know." Kelly explained for apparently the second time. Her arm was placed firmly through Ryan's, almost like a prison guard escorting a convict to court.

"Oh, okay." Kelly took Pam's words as permission, and dragged her date in the direction of the central dance floor.

"Am I a horrible person if I say I feel bad for Ryan?" Jim asked, meeting her gaze.

Pam pretended to think it over. "Maybe. But that'll mean I am, too."

Jim laughed, staring directly at his feet. After a moment, he gestured towards the drinks table on the left side of the room. "Do you want a drink?"

"Sure," she smiled up at him.

He went off to get their drinks, dodging a large group of sophomores song the way.

Pam tried to tune into the music. _Werewolves of London_ was over, a new song was playing - _Faith_. Kelly and Ryan were dancing in the middle of the throng of people - or rather, Kelly was dancing, and Ryan was just allowing her to lead him.

Jim returned a moment later, two plastic cups in hand, with a small stain on his shirt, near his shoulder.

"Couple of frat guys deemed it necessary to bump my drink." He explained, handing her the fuller one.

Pam shot him a bemused look before taking a tentative sip. It tasted sweet but plain, like the type of punch drank during fundraisers at her local church.

After a couple of minutes, Jim had downed his drink and was waiting patiently for Pam to finish hers. She did, with a slight shudder (it was incredibly sweet - it made her want to brush her teeth immediately) and looked up, expectantly.

"Hey," Jim began, as though he had been rehearsing what he was about to say since the start of the night. "Would you like to dance?"

Pam was taken aback. Slowly, she reached to set down her empty cup on the nearby table. "Um," she could feel his eyes on her. "Sure."

The current song seemed to still be halfway through, but regardless, Jim gestured for her to go with him to the dance floor.

The previous crowd had begun to disperse a little, and everyone who was left - Kelly and Ryan were nowhere to be found, unsurprisingly - were culminating in the very centre of the floor. Jim ended up leading her to a little spot on the outskirts, close to the crowd, but still far enough away that they wouldn't be pushed around by a bunch of half-drunk 20-year-olds.

The chorus of the song picked up again, and Jim took her hand.

 _Just be calm._

"I'm really bad at this."

He laughed, but she guessed he didn't believe her. "Good. I've been waiting forever to see some Beesly dance moves."

She rolled her eyes, but gripped his hand tight, and started to move. It wasn't great; she was probably no better than she was in middle school. But it was _fun_. For the first time in what felt like forever, she felt truly carefree.

Jim's dancing seemed to be no better than hers, but he suited it. All gangly arms and legs, as per usual.

 _"Yeah, it's sad that you think that we're all just scenesters_

 _And even if we were it's not the scene you're thinking of"_

Her breathing was already becoming pretty erratic from all the exercise, but despite this, she managed to say what was going through her mind.

"I love this!" She wasn't entirely sure if her cry was even heard over the music, but it didn't matter.

"Me too!" Jim replied. Even though he was having to shout over the song playing, there was something soft in his tone.

 _"Not sure if you mind if I dance with you_

 _But I don't think right now you care about anything at all"_

The song had reached it's bridge, and suddenly the room felt a lot quieter. Jim looked around, seeming confused, until finally, she heard it.

"Pam!"

"Hey, is that-" She cut herself off when she caught sight of him across the room.

Roy locked eyes with her and grinned, starting to make his way across the floor. "Hey!"

"Oh, my God!" She could hardly speak. "What - What are you doing here?"

"I felt bad about missing your birthday, you know. So, I drove up here to meet you." He wrapped her in a hug. He smelled the same way as he always did, and for a moment, Pam felt like she had never left high school, never left home.

"You're the best." She spoke over his shoulder.

"Well," he hugged her tighter, swaying them both a little. "I've been here for a while, actually. You weren't in your room, but your roommate was, so she said you were here."

"I'm really glad you're here."

"Me, too." They broke apart, Roy still grinning ear-to-ear. "Hey, let's get out of here."

"Sure!" She checked her phone was still in her back pocket and took his outstretched hand. They were almost to the door when she remembered.

"One sec," she apologised to her boyfriend, before rushing back through the crowd to Jim. He was rooted to the same spot he was standing in when Roy first arrived, but presently had his phone out.

"Jim," she called, though it sounded more like a question than anything. "Thanks… For tonight."

His face softened, but he barely looked up from his screen. "You're welcome. I'll… I'll see you tomorrow, I guess."

She shot him one last grateful grin before returning to Roy, and together, they walked out into the night.

* * *

 **since the next chapter will be in December, i will be doing a sort of time-hop - chapter 23 will likely take place just after Thanksgiving break.**

 **see you 4/12/15!**


	23. all we do is feel the fade

**i'm back! thanks to everyone who's reading this and has stuck with this fic over the hiatus - you're the best! also i'm sorry this wasn't a longer chapter; i'm sort of just getting back into the swing of writing fic as for NaNo i wrote original. so please forgive me if any of this seems off or** **ooc or anything! :)**

 **title taken from: "All We Do" by Oh Wonder**

* * *

Thanksgiving break had certainly been very interesting.

(Or, at least, about as interesting as Thanksgiving break had ever been.)

Between the combination of turkey, family members he had forgotten he ever had, and the endless questioning about his college degree, Jim had found hardly any time to contact any of his friends, even the ones who still lived in their hometown.

As a result of this, he was actually pretty excited to get back to school after the 5-day break.

He arrived rather late in the afternoon (he had the luxury of not having any classes until 3pm, and so could take his time settling back into things) and almost immediately ran into Ryan, who seemed as though he was trying to avoid someone.

Ryan jerked his head up in acknowledgement as they passed each other, and Jim guessed he didn't really want to catch up right now, so he just continued on his way to the Dunder-Mifflin block.

The elevator ride took a way longer time than he remembered, but in a matter of minutes, he was standing in front of his door.

There didn't seem to be any nosy coming from the room, so he guessed that (thankfully) Dwight wasn't there yet, and pushed open the door one-handed.

The room looked exactly the same as it had when he had left - beds made neatly, wardrobe doors shut perfectly, and the stack of unneeded textbooks sat primly on his desk. Dwight's side of the room was so unnervingly clean that it looked almost as though no one had ever lived there at all, and for one wild moment he was filled with hope that maybe, just maybe, his awful roommate transferred schools.

However, he was incorrect - within mere moments of first stepping into the room and setting down his bags, the door was flung open to reveal a very angry-looking Dwight Schrute.

Dwight rushed into the room with no preamble, dumping his bags and immediately beginning to unpack. He looked pretty normal… Well, not that anything could ever truly be considered _normal_ in the case of Dwight Schrute, but nevertheless… Except for his hands.

"Did someone catch you in the act?" Jim asked, perching, for the first time in almost a week, atop his bed.

"What?" Dwight turned his head.

Jim gestured to his roommate's hands. They were stained slightly red.

Dwight looked at his own hands and groaned. "Beet juice." He explained. "Takes forever to get out."

"Right." He had learned not to question anything Dwight ever claimed. "By the way, do you know what time History class starts today?"

"4:25." Dwight responded promptly.

"Cool. Thanks." He guessed that class was going to be the first time he saw Pam again after the break, and for once in his life, he was actually excited to go to class.

* * *

Although he was pretty much totally unpacked within the next half hour, Jim decided to wait out the remaining 15 minutes until class started in his room instead of going to find his friends.

Dwight left after just a couple of minutes after a short blonde girl appeared in the open doorway, looking flustered and not saying much. Dwight followed her down the hall, and since that point, hadn't came back to the room, so Jim had just closed the door and turned up his music.

He made a mental list of all the things he had to mention to her - the way that his intensely Catholic grandmother lectured him for an entire hour on "college promiscuity"; how his brother got so drunk he forgot which room was his; the complete and utter lack of studying he did over the break.

Because of course they had a little contact - not as much as he would have liked, mind you - over the break, but really, how was he expected to fit in everything he wanted to tell her within a series of mere texts?

* * *

The time had finally come for class to start -

Well, not exactly; there was still a few minutes until the official beginning of the class, but he had to get there early to save their seats, right?

There were a few people in the room already, though unfortunately, Oscar was the only one he recognised. Jim sent him a little wave, and Oscar nodded politely back.

His leg bounced uncontrollably under the table, which he guessed was a good indication of his nervousness for the class. Pam hadn't arrived yet, and it was only a couple of minutes until the bell… She was always early to class. It was kind of her thing.

The others began to filter in, with a few new faces traipsing along, too. It seemed as though there were lots of new people going into the class after the holidays.

In fact, after just a few moments the class was practically full, but there was still no sign of Pam. Granted, there was still one minute until the class was set to begin, and Mr. Scott still wasn't even there yet, but it still worried him.

Mr. Scott wandered into the class, dragging his feet over-dramatically, and Jim had pretty much given up hope. Maybe Pam wasn't returning to class, maybe she had finally run away with Roy.

(Not that he had a problem with Roy! Pam could date whoever she wanted to, and Roy seemed really great… Sort of.)

Just at that moment, the door was joltingly pushed open, as if the person entering had trouble with the weight of the door.

"Sorry I'm late," Pam puffed, adjusting the strap of her bag on her shoulder.

(It was a new one, Jim noticed, that she presumably had gotten over the break - a satchel. It was different.)

He shot her a grin across the room (not that he could really help it) which she hesitantly returned.

As Mr Scott didn't seem to care whatsoever whether Pam was late to class or not, he simply dismissed her with a floppy wave of his hand and allowed her to rush up the stairs and squeeze into their row.

"Hey," Jim greeted her, and he couldn't help but wish she had gotten there earlier, because in this moment all he wanted to do was hug her.

"Hi," she murmured back, lugging her satchel onto the desk and pulling out her laptop and other class materials. She took her seat and tugged at her hair, not really looking at anything. She was probably the most distracted that Jim had ever seen her.

He waited a moment for her to get settled properly before speaking again. After shooting a glance to the front of the class, where Mr. Scott was still setting up, he said without looking at her: "It's great to see you again."

"You too." Pam responded after a second, her voice soft. She sounded the exact same way he remembered, all soft and whisper-y and timid. "Sorry, I didn't stay in contact much over the break, just-"

"No, it's fine." Jim cut in. "It was Thanksgiving, I'm sure we were both interested in catching up with our families back home and everything, it's really no big deal."

"Yeah," Pam agreed, though there was something off. When Jim turned, only briefly, to see what was up, she was worrying her lip with her teeth.

He immediately focused his attention back to the front of the class.

* * *

The class was finally over, after it had went on for what seemed like forever. As per usual, Jim learned approximately nothing, other than Mr. Scott's complete and utter incompetence when it came to magic tricks, which he had forced them all to watch.

Pam took a little longer to pack up her stuff, but waved away his offers to help, so Jim decided to wait outside the classroom for her instead.

Class ended 7 minutes ago. Pam was just now leaving.

"Sorry I took so long." She shot him an apologetic smile. "I guess I'm still trying to adjust to being… Y'know, back here."

"No, it's fine." He responded without thinking.

They fell into step together, though Pam's strides seemed to be quicker than his.

"So, how was your break?" Jim asked, because he knew that if he didn't keep the conversation going, they would just run out of things to talk about, and he really didn't want that to happen right now.

Pam hummed to herself, thinking. "It was pretty good, I suppose. It was nice to be back home again. I think… I think I missed home more than I was allowing myself to admit."

Her message was cryptic, and this wasn't like her. (Maybe when they first met, before countless History classes and birthday parties and rooftop picnics, but not now. Not recent.)

"Yeah, I get what you mean." He replied cautiously, even though it was technically a lie. "I mean, Thanksgiving is always fun for me. The family comes round, we all get to see each other… Plus, my parents are great cooks."

"Shame they didn't pass that on to you." Pam quipped, before finally, finally cracking a genuine smile.

When they laughed together, it felt just like old times.

* * *

(But there was still something just under the surface.

And it couldn't remain for much longer.)


	24. swing me your bones

**sorry this was uploaded late! but here it is anyway :)**

 **title taken from: Technicolour Beat (again by Oh Wonder)**

* * *

Although it had only been a few days since classes begun, Pam was already settling back into the swing of things at school. She and Kelly had reentered into the same comfortable routine they had been in before the break - when not in class or hanging out with Jim, Pam was mostly in their room doing homework or studying, and Kelly spent most of her time running around with Ryan (surprisingly, they seemed to still be going strong) or in the small local town.

When they did see each other, it was predominantly Kelly who did all the talking, with Pam nodding along and pretending to understand whatever story she was telling. Kelly did still enjoy teasing her about their mutual friend (only occasionally) but for the most part, everything was fine.

"So, what do you think you'll be doing for Winter break?" Her roommate asked one afternoon, on a rare fifteen minutes where they both happened to be in their room at the same time.

"We just got back from Thanksgiving break." Pam reminded her, flipping the page of her textbook over. She'd been studying ever since her last class ended, and presently she was so bored that her 'reading' had become mostly just skimming the page, not really focusing on anything. Honestly? She was grateful for the distraction Kelly provided.

"Yeah, I know that." Kelly replied with her trademark combined eye-roll and hair flip. "But, like, the Winter break is just around the corner, Pam." She tapped the side of her head. "Gotta plan ahead, you know?"

"I guess." Pam frowned, finally giving up on any illusion of studying. "Well, it's Winter break - I'll be going home again." She shrugged.

"Sounds fun." Kelly tipped her head to the side, as though Pam's answer wasn't adequate enough, as if there was something missing.

"What?"

"Nothing." She lied. "Just, I thought maybe you would want to do something with all of us before we leave." She sighed dramatically. "But, I guess not…"

"What did you have in mind?" It was now Pam's turn to roll her eyes - Kelly pulled something like this whenever she wanted Pam to do something, and by now she had gotten used to it enough that it didn't have as much of an effect on her as it might one have done.

Kelly brightened immediately, bouncing a little on her bed with excitement. "I'm so glad you asked, Pam! Phyllis - you know her, right, she said you guys were in a class together? - is hosting a small get-together at her house, just a little way off campus." At her roommate's raised eyebrows, she added: "Just a small, tasteful Christmas party. I promise!"

Pam considered the options. If she didn't go, Kelly likely would give her the cold shoulder for at least a week. If she did go, it was sure to be underwhelming at best, and terrible at worst.

Then again, she probably would only have to stay for a couple of hours…

"Fine," she relented with a sigh.

Kelly let out a high-pitched squeal of excitement. "Oh, Pam, thank you so much! You won't regret it, I promise!"

Whatever.

* * *

"Hey, quick question." Jim tapped her on the arm as they headed out of History. It was Pam's last class of the day (thank God) and so she had decided just to go back to her room after it.

"What?"

He tipped his head back in the direction of where Mr. Scott and the faculty dean were standing talking. The dean seemed to be lecturing him on something, as Mr. Scott's back was arched down and he was staring resolutely at the ground.

"What about them?" Pam asked, again, not exactly seeing what her friend was getting at.

"Scott and the dean!" He whisper-exclaimed. "Don't you think there's something going on between them?"

"Ew," she grimaced. "No. Definitely not." The faculty dean had only starting appearing in History lessons the past couple of days, presumably due to some student complaint about Mr. Scott's incompetence. She sat in on the class, taking notes, and watching their professor like a hawk. Mr. Scott constantly addressed her when teaching, even though she asked him not to at least twice per lesson.

Jim was still watching the pair from across the hallway. "Don't you think they'd be kinda cute together?"

She had to check to make sure he was only joking. Thankfully, he was - the grin on his face showed it. "Shut up."

She glanced back to them. Mr. Scott seemed to now be pleading with her. _"Jan, come on!" "Don't call me Jan when we're at work, Michael."_

"I really, really hope there isn't anything going on with them." Pam shook her head, trying in vain to get the images out of her head. She started walking again, knowing that Jim would be close behind her.

"Is this your last class?" Jim asked when they had turned the corner and were approaching the exits.

"Yeah." She nodded, and was about to turn back to the direction she was heading in before when Jim stopped her.

"Sorry if this is weird or anything, but… I was just wondering, 'cause Kelly was badgering me about it earlier - are you going to the party at Phyllis' house?"

"How do you know Phyllis?" She asked, even though the appropriate response to what he said was probably answering the question he asked.

He shrugged. "I've seen her around. We've spoke a few times."

"Oh."

"So, are you?"

It took Pam a second to remember what he was asking. "Oh! Um, yes. Yeah. Kelly seems to be forcing me."

"Okay, then." He shot her a wide, yet nervous-looking smile, and nodded once. Curt. "I guess I'll see you tomorrow, then?"

"See you tomorrow." She gave him one last smile before turning and walking back to her dorm room.

What was _with_ him today? He sounded way too nervous - was there something going on?


	25. and why can't that always be?

**this is part one of two. :D i'm guessing you can tell where this is going...**

 **also! this fic is only about 3/4 through my plan, BUT i'm thinking of posting a (** **separate) "alternative ending" to the fic - if anyone's interested, that is. the alternative ending would pretty much wrap almost everything up leading on from the end of the next chapter, and would probably be based somewhat on the finale of the UK Office. (though obvs i'm gonna be continuing this fic until i reach the proper end)**

 **title taken from: "The Dreamer" by The Tallest Man On Earth. :)**

* * *

"You're attending the party at Phyllis Lapin-Vance's house tonight." Dwight stated, even though it probably should have been a question.

"Yep." Jim replied, rifling through his rucksack for his Business class notes. "Why?"

Dwight didn't reply, simply making a scoffing noise.

 _Alright, then_. Jim thought, refusing to acknowledge his roommate's weird behaviour. Instead, he focused on the night ahead.

There was still the rest of the day to come first - thankfully there wasn't too many classes today, but still - but he was already feeling pretty excited. It was his first "grown-up" Christmas party, after all. He wasn't entirely sure what to expect, but the night sounded promising anyway, and he knew it would be a fun way to finish up for the Winter break.

* * *

It was halfway through Business class, his first of the day, that things started to go wrong. Very wrong.

A text came in from his father, who almost never texted.

 **"Call me."**

It was in the middle of his professor's lecture, so he decided that whatever the problem was would just have to wait until class was over.

As soon as the professor dismissed the class, he rushed outside and leaned against the opposite wall, dialling the number his father had sent the text from.

"Dad?"

"Hello." His father sounded a little nervous. "There's been an accident, with the car."

"What kind of accident?" He asked, slowly. He couldn't understand what this 'problem' had to do with him, or why his father had asked him to call so urgently.

"Nothing too serious." He assured. "Just a minor thing, but it's in the shop now." He sounded now as though he was deliberately hinting towards something.

"And…?" Jim prompted, as he still didn't really know what was going on.

"It doesn't look like we'll be able to pick you up from school for the Winter break." His father sighed down the line, and it was half-relief, half-apology.

Jim didn't say anything.

"We've been looking into things, and it seems that there are a couple of trains you could get, and there's also a bus, but that would mean that you would have to first go to the town…"

"I - Thanks." He stuttered. This… This was okay. He would find a way around this eventually. It would all be okay. "Could you text me the information on the transport stuff?"

"Absolutely!" His father exclaimed, his voice sounding one hundred percent relief, now. "Yes - and we sure are sorry, by the way. It's unfortunate, but don't you worry, you _will_ be coming home for Christmas this year."

"Yeah."

"You won't be forced to stay in your dorm all Winter!" A lame joke, but Jim laughed anyway.

"Well, thanks anyway, Dad - I'd best be going now, I have to go back to my dorm quickly."

"Ah, yes, of course - that's fine. I'll get going, now. And I'll see you in a few days time, we'll be making sure of it!"

They exchanged their goodbyes, and Jim, still slightly in shock, clicked the lock screen on his phone and slipped it into his pocket.

* * *

He had been researching possible modes of transportation for the past 15 minutes straight, and Jim definitely needed a break.

So far, he had found absolutely nothing that his father hadn't already told him on the phone - the easiest way seemed to be taking a bus from the town to the nearest city, then taking either a train or a coach back home. (And, even at that, the journey would still involve a lot of walking…)

He decided the best thing to do at the moment was to take a short walk around the campus to relax a little.

He left the room, being sure to lock the door as Dwight was sure to not return until at least a couple of hours later, and leaving his phone on the bed.

The dorm area was quiet around this time of day, as most people were in class or eating early lunch. He ran into hardly any people on the short walk down to the main foyer, until he noticed someone standing by the corkboard on the far side of the room.

Something compelled him to approach the person, as she looked like she needed help. The only free space on the cork corkboard was up at the top, and she was having a bit of trouble reaching that high.

"Sorry, do you need help?"

The girl snapped her head around - obviously she hadn't heard him coming. She then let out an easy laugh. "Thanks."

He put out a hand to take the laminated paper from her, as well as the 4 thumbtacks, and reached up to begin pinning it to the board. It was only when he had finished that he stopped to read what she was advertising.

And suddenly, it seemed as thought the stars had aligned.

She was offering carpool, and the town she listed as the general destination was just a couple of miles from his own home town.

"What?" The girl asked, following his line of eyesight to the advertisement. "Did I make a typo, or something?"

"No, no." He shook his head, tearing his gaze away from the notice. "Just, um." How could he start this without sounding weird? "I was actually looking for a ride."

She raised an eyebrow, seeming skeptical.

"Like, my dad called this morning to say the family car's broken down, and they were supposed to be picking me up here. And I've been researching other ways to get home ever since, but it looks like you're going the same direction as I am, so…" He trailed off, hoping that his speech didn't sound too weird. As a last resort to sound genuine, he blurted out the name of his small home town, wondering if she had even heard of it.

She nodded slowly. "I think I know where that is." She then took a minute or so to think, hopefully about Jim's request.

He waited as patiently as possible, tapping one finger against the palm of his hand.

Finally, she settled on an answer. "Alright, then." She reached up to point at the laminated notice. "But, as I'm hoping you have read, I will be requiring gas money. And full control of my radio."

"Absolutely." He nodded erratically, feeling overwhelmed with gratitude. "Thank you, seriously - you've just saved me from a whole lot of unnecessary travel."

"You're welcome." The girl grinned, but then faltered. "Um, sorry, what's your name?"

"Jim Halpert. I think I've seen you around school a few times before, but I'm not totally sure who you are, to be honest." He shrugged it off.

"Karen Filipelli." She took Jim's offered hand and shook it. "So I'm guessing now would be a good time to exchange numbers, so I can text you later about times and stuff?" There was a slight nervous twinge to her voice, but she was obviously trying to remain coy-sounding.

"Oh, yeah, sure!" He unlocked his phone, watching as Karen followed suit, and proceeded to read out his number, slowly so she could insert it. Once she had done the same for him, they were left at an awkward standstill.

"I'm guessing I won't be needing this." She joked, gesturing to the notice.

"Yeah."

"Would you mind taking it back down? Just, I can't reach."

Jim did as she requested, handing it back to her with a flourish. "So, all the effort I put into pinning that up there was for nothing, huh?"

"Yep." She replied, popping the 'p'. "Sorry!"

She didn't sound sorry at all.

* * *

Jim later recounted the anticlimactic drama to Pam over their late lunch. When he had finished and revealed the name of his carpool, she frowned.

"Karen? Karen Filipelli?"

"Yeah." He spooned some macaroni into his mouth. "D'you know her?"

Pam nodded, brow furrowed. "She's in my Art class."

"She's nice, right?"

"I guess." She concentrated on her food. "I mean, we haven't spoken much…"

"Yeah… I'm glad she's offering me this ride, though. I would've hated to have to travel by train."

Pam made a noncommittal humming noise, moving a piece of chicken around on her plate with her fork.

After a few moments of silence, Jim decided to prod a little. Her constant lapses into complete silence were getting a little awkward. "So, are you excited for Phyllis' tonight?"

"I suppose." She shot him a half-smile. "It sounds like it'll be fun. Really, though, I'm just looking forward to going home for Christmas."

Jim nodded in understanding. "It'll be nice to see… Everyone. Again." He faltered, realising that "everyone" to Pam meant not only her family, but also her boyfriend. Crap. He really, really didn't want to bring Roy into conversation.

"Yeah. I think Roy might have something planned… He keeps sending me ambiguous emojis." She shook her head, smiling faintly at the antics.

(Okay, so he had that one coming.)

* * *

The lunch ended pretty abruptly after that - he just suddenly didn't feel much like eating anymore.


	26. pulled me from the earth

**title taken from: "Like Real People Do" by Hozier.**

 **hope this lives up to your expectations!**

 **ALSO: SURPRISE HIATUS. SORT OF.**

 **PLEASE NOTE THAT UPDATES ARE NOT GUARANTEED DURING JANUARY. (AS IN, NOT EVERY FRIDAY.) I'LL TRY TO POST AS MUCH AS I CAN, HOWEVER. SORRY!**

 **hope you have/had nice holidays and a fun New Year.**

* * *

After her slightly unsettling conversation with Jim, Pam headed back up to her room to get ready for the night.

As she walked, she couldn't help but play over their conversation in her head. There was just a certain way that Jim spoke about her…

Karen was no stranger to Pam, or at the very least, she was a lot more familiar to her than she implied. They took Art together - Karen was the pretty butterscotch-haired girl who sat near the front and smiled when she answered questions. Pam was the quietest in the whole class, and ducked her head when the professor asked for volunteers.

Karen was pretty and funny and bubbly.

But, anyway.

She knocked lightly on the door in case Kelly was in. When there was no reply, she let herself in, grateful for the small amount of alone time.

The party still wasn't for a couple of hours, so at present she focused on packing up her things for Christmas break.

Her mother was coming to drive her home the very next day, and she was excited to see her again. Although Thanksgiving break was merely a month ago, she already missed her family. Also, it was going to be nice to have a day to say goodbye to everyone before leaving.

She had already packed most of her things into the suitcase, leaving only the clothes she would need for the party and following day, and all that was really left was her schoolwork, which, after using a little the next day, she would cram into her backpack to barely look at until school started back up.

Kelly's side of the room was practically bare. She had started packing almost an entire week earlier, proclaiming "even though I don't celebrate Christmas with my family, it is so nice so be able to get out of school for a while. Thank God for Christmas break, am I right?"

Thank God for Christmas break indeed.

* * *

After over an hour of on/off packing and procrastinating, she decided it was time to actually get ready for the party. She had laid out a casual dress the night before - nothing too fancy, but nice enough that it was clear she had made an effort.

Nervous butterflies had already started in her stomach, only increasing once she had changed into the outfit.

Kelly had already consented to Pam using her straighteners, so she quickly switched them on and waited a second, bouncing in her seat. Once they were ready to use, she repositioned her seat so that she was in front of the closet mirror.

Carefully, she separated a small section of hair, clamped the straighteners onto it, and slowly glided it downwards. The end result was mostly-straight, though still had a few stubborn kinks in it. Despite this, she still considered it a worthwhile effort, and spent the next 20 or so minutes doing the rest.

When she was done (as best she could, given the circumstances) she brushed her hair out and retrieved her phone. There was still a while to go, but as there was nothing more to be done, she guessed it couldn't hurt to be a little early.

As a precaution she texted Kelly.

 _TO: Kelly_

 _FROM: Pam_

 _i'm just about finished up and i think i'll be heading there pretty early? what're you doing?_

As it was pretty cold outside and she planned on walking to Phyllis' place, she grabbed her white coat, checked she had her phone and keys, and set off.

The walk through the halls was… Well, "ominous" was the best word she could find to describe it. The corridors were eerily silent, and Pam guessed everyone must be packing to leave or in class. She doubted many people would be at Phyllis' party - as far as she knew from the invite, it was planned to be a relatively small get-together, and besides, she was early.

She rounded the final corner and reached the foyer of the building. Outside, it was pitch black, and she could practically feel the cold even from inside.

The glass of the door was freezing to touch, but she pushed it open nevertheless and stepped out. Immediately, the wind took hold, nipping at her skin and making her uncovered face tingle. She debated whether to rush back to her room to grab a scarf and gloves, but ultimately decided against the extra trip, and shoved her hands in her pockets determinedly. Perhaps the walk would take her mind off of things, or at least warm her up a bit.

She had made it just halfway through the parking lot when her phone buzzed next to her left hand. She checked it, frowning at the interruption - she had just started to forget about the sub-zero temperatures, but this only served to remind her of the situation.

It was a Snapchat, from Roy. When she opened it, his face flashed onto the screen. He was wearing an oversized Christmas jumper and an over-exaggerated pout. The caption read simply: _"Can't wait til u get here. family is way too talkative y'know"_

She gave a soft smile at that - not the comment so much, but the picture was pretty cute. She swiped to get to the text function, typed back a quick _"I'll be there soon! xx"_ and pushed the phone back into her pocket.

The rest of the walk passed largely without incident. She treaded carefully on the grass when walking up the hill, almost slipping on a couple of occasions, and was grateful for the lack of people nearby to witness.

It was surprisingly calming, walking through campus at night, especially on a cold, quiet, Wintery night like this. Time always seemed to slow down in the deep Winter, particularly during Christmas time.

Once she reached the town, she knew there was only a short time to go until she got there. Thankfully, the walk had taken such a long time that she wouldn't be early at all, but arriving just after the proposed start. She was grateful of this, as Kelly had advised her on multiple occasions that it was best to be "fashionably late" to any college party she attended.

In the distance was a group of people heading in the same direction as she, which was a comfort as at elates he now knew that she wouldn't be the only person in attendance when she eventually got to the party.

The town was pretty at Christmas-time. It was the first time she had ever been after dark. The Christmas lights were strung up over the old-fashioned lamp posts and the store fronts had little Christmas trees next to their displays with tiny, multicoloured twinkling lights.

She quickened her pace - past the lamp posts and store fronts, and marched up the concrete hill.

* * *

Was this the right house?

Sure, there was music coming from inside and the Christmas lights were more obnoxious than the neighbouring houses and from the crack in the blinds it appeared that there were quite a few people dancing in there already, but there was still a chance she had the wrong place.

She checked the address from her e-invitation three times before knocking on the door, just to be sure.

As she waited on someone coming to the door, she took the opportunity to stare up at the house. Well, the mere term "house" didn't really cover it - it was huge. A faux-historical (though she had no idea which era it was trying to emulate) type of building; it looked like the type of homes she would visualise in books when she was younger.

The door swung open and she was greeted by Phyllis Lapin-Vance, cheeks flushed, a huge grin on her face. "Oh, Pam!" She greeted in her thick Pennsylvanian accent. "Your'e arrived! Come on in, it's freezing out."

Pam allowed herself to be ushered in by the older woman.

Inside was only a little louder than the outside. As she had expected, the affair seemed to be mostly quite classy, with less than 50 people crowded into the living room, thankfully not all of them coming from school.

"Your friend Jim's already here," Phyllis explained, pointing towards the ajar door to the living room. "Not sure where Kelly is, though."

"Oh, I'm sure she'll be here eventually." Pam assured her, hoping she didn't feel put out by Kelly's absence. "I think she's just… Running a little late."

Phyllis nodded firmly before apologetically leaving to tend to the tapas.

Pam wandered into the merry room slowly, taking in the view and the atmosphere of the party so far. There were a few small groups of people dotted around, just talking and laughing and nursing drinks. No one seemed to be particularly drunk.

She spotted Jim in the corner, talking to a group of people she vaguely recognised as business majors. She weighed the pros and cons of going up to him - he looked busy, and she was pretty sure she had never spoken 2 words to any of the guys he was with - but apparently had dithered a moment too long, because soon Jim had caught sight of her and was making his way across the room.

"Hey!" He greeted warmly, only having to raise his voice slightly over the soft music.

"Hi," she was feeling rather shy all of a sudden, but blamed it on the party setting. "I didn't think you would be here so early."

"Oh, yeah, sorry. I meant to text you or Kelly or something, but I guess in all the chaos I forgot." He scratched the back of his neck bashfully. "I had to call my dad and tell him the new situation in terms of the journey back home. He's… Well, he's kinda overprotective, wanting to know all about Karen, so I had to phone her back and get all this weirdly personal information and stuff, and…" He trails off, shakes his head. "Anyway, it was all just a bit chaotic. Parents, y'know?"

"Yeah."

"Do you want a drink? Phyllis is giving out eggnog in the kitchen." His easy smile was back.

"Um, sure." She followed him through the spacious room and into the kitchen, where Phyllis, some older friends of hers, and a man she assumed was her husband were chatting.

* * *

A half hour into the party, and things were going surprisingly well. Pam was never much into parties, and truthfully she had been a little nervous for this one, but the whole affair seemed to be relaxed, no big deal.

Kelly arrived a solid 20 minutes after Pam did, traipsing in with a vice-like grip on Ryan's shoulder. She was gushing over something he had said, but Pam wasn't really listening at that point. Once she was finally able to break free from that conversation, she drifted back to Jim, who since her arrival had abandoned the company of the business majors and was mostly hanging out with her instead.

He was still nursing his eggnog, sipping from it every so often in the short pauses in their speech.

"So, Kelly and Ryan have arrived."

"Yep." Pam replied, popping the p. "I'm not even sure that Ryan was invited. I think Kelly insisted on bringing him along."

Jim chuckled. "Yeah, probably."

"Apparently," she continued, leaning in conspiratorially and watching around the room for Kelly to make sure she didn't hear. "Ryan was so desperate to not come, he told her he doesn't even celebrate Christmas. But that backfired, 'cause Kelly doesn't, either, which I suppose only strengthened their bond, in her opinion."

"Kelly's my friend and everything, but…" He trailed off, watching to see what reaction she had.

"No, go on." She raised an eyebrow.

"Sometimes I really feel bad for the guy."

"I guess." Her eyes darted around the room once again, checking the locations of Ryan and Kelly once more. "He's pretty awful, too, though."

"Oh, absolutely. Yeah."

* * *

The party was well into full swing by the time Kelly and Ryan had been there for around an hour. (Though Jim speculated that the success of the party was actually despite their appearance, and Pam was inclined to agree.)

Bob Vance (of Vance Refrigeration) ended up inviting a few people to the basement to play a short game of poker. Jim and Pam were in the kitchen at the time and therefore close-by, and when he asked, Pam found herself saying "yes" without even thinking about it. Sometimes it was nice, being able to answer without thinking.

"Are you sure about this?" Jim murmured, once they were down in the basement. It was a little stuffier than the living room upstairs, though quieter and significantly less crowded.

"At least this way, we won't be cornered by Ryan and Kelly for the next half hour or so." She reasoned, stepping to the side to allow the others at the poker table.

There wasn't many other people down, just Bob Vance, Phyllis, and a couple of people she recognised from the Art class she and Phyllis shared in school. She and Jim agreed to go last, and so until then opted to hang by the wall and wait.

The games weren't the most interesting thing in the world, but it was something to watch. Phyllis, for whatever reason, seemed to be naturally gifted at the game, whereas the people from Art class continually lost. Bob Vance also seemed to be reasonably good at the game, though in every one that she played, Phyllis won.

When the others got tired and headed back upstairs to the party, Pam was actually a little nervous. Her only experience of playing poker was with her grandparents and other family members at gatherings or holidays, and Jim had been bragging about how good he was at it ever since they first spotted the table. (Though jokingly, of course.)

They began the game awkwardly, but pretty soon Pam realised that she had a real advantage. Jim didn't appear to be very good at all, and his 'poker face' was pretty terrible.

"What's that face for?" Jim asked suddenly, jolting her out of her reverie.

"What face?"

"This," he demonstrated what he meant, over-exaggerating her expression to the point where even she found it quite funny.

"Maybe I just have a good card."

"Hmm. Yeah, right." He narrowed his eyes, all faux-serious, until she mimicked his expression, causing him to crack a smile. "I think you're bluffing." He laid out his cards and she hers, and after studying them for a quick moment, his expression turned to one of shock.

"Told you." She smirked (or attempted a smirk, at least - whether it worked or not, she couldn't tell.)

He opened his mouth to say something else, but at that moment, Pam's phone rang in her pocket.

"Sorry, one sec." She quickly pulled it out to check the caller ID - Roy. "Um," she didn't want to be rude, but Roy almost never called - this must have been important. "So sorry, but would you mind if I went outside and took this call? Just, it's Roy, and I don't-"

"No, no, it's fine." Jim shot her a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "I'll be upstairs."

"Thanks." She rushed up the stairs two at a time, only looking back when she didn't hear him following her.

* * *

The evening had been going pretty well, until…

Well.

And he just hated when this happened, because on the one hand, yeah, she was his best friend and he wanted her to be happy and if she was happy with Roy then that shouldn't be any of his business.

But on the other hand, he was hopelessly in love with her (a fact he had only just recently came to terms with, but he knew had been under the surface for a while now) and it was getting increasingly harder to hide… That.

When she leapt up the stairs two at a time and disappeared through the small crowd of the living room and into the front hallway, he honestly didn't think he would end up following her.

But as he watched her, gently twisting the door handle back and shutting the door gently, one hand holding her phone to her ear, something inside just… Snapped.

His feet moved of their own accord and before he knew it, he was standing outside, watching as she paced back and forth across the front lawn.

"No, it's not poker for money, or anything." She was explaining, and there was a smile on her face. "Seriously, I won! I think we should play when I get back, so I can kick your ass, as well." Roy said something over the phone that made her laugh, her breath making small clouds in the air. "Are you sure? I guess I'll see you tomorrow… Okay, see you then. Bye!" She hung up the phone, staring at it for a moment before slipping it back into her pocket.

When she turned around and saw him, she seemed surprised, but still happy from the phone call and whatever was said.

"I didn't see you there." She remarked, and it sounded a little like a giggle.

"Yeah, sorry about that…" He jammed one hand in his pocket, striding across the lawn to meet her. By the time his feet allowed him to stop, there was about 4 feet between them. "Just, there's something you should know." He began the sentence not really sure where he was going. After a moment or two it clicked in his head that he should probably leave, and is mouth opened of its own accord to tell her so, but what came out was different. "I'm in love with you."

He only questioned it for a split second, but after that it was all crystal clear. This was it. They had known each other for almost half a year, now, and suddenly he was just so, so tired of having to pretend.

However, Pam's smile was slowly sliding from her face.

"I know that might be weird for you to hear, but-"

"What?" Oh, God - was that tears in her eyes? She shook her head slightly. "No. Sorry. I…"

"Look, I know you're with Roy and everything, and that's not - I'm not trying to -" This was getting frustrating.

"I…" She was staring at a point just over his shoulder, twisting one hand in the hem of her skirt. "I can't."

He nodded. It wasn't as though he hadn't been expecting this.

"You have no idea how much your friendship-"

He cut her off, not really out of rudeness but more of protection. "Please don't."

She continued anyway, with an expression that suggested she was trying to make things better, soften the blow a little. "-means to me, but I really just - I can't. I'm sorry."

He nodded again, this time letting out the sigh that had been building since she first spoke. "Yeah. I guess I just needed you to know. Once."

Her phone buzzed, as ever. She sent him a fleeting look; half-apologetic, half-timid.

He stalked off. Not knowing where, just knowing that he needed to move, needed to feel the wold wind against his skin.

* * *

She was crying by the time she reached beginning of campus. Though, she reflected later, it wasn't really _crying_. It didn't feel like an action _she_ was doing and had control over, more that it was happening physically _to_ her, and there was nothing she could do to make it stop.

She marched up the front doors of the building, and without even thinking about it, turned right. She had no idea why her feet were taking her in this direction, round the side of the building where there's virtually nothing but grass and trees, when really all she wanted is to curl up in bed and forget about the whole situation. Something about it felt right, however, as if there was a real purpose to her being there.

The next natural step was to slide her phone out of her pocket and call her mom. It's what she had always done when she was in trouble or needed advice, and especially at that moment, when an overwhelming sense of homesickness overtook her.

Her mother picked up after an agonising 3 and a half rings.

"Mom…"

* * *

He walked all the way around the little town once, allowing him to cool off a little before heading back to his room. It only made sense to walk back from the place he had ended up at, rather than going the long way around, which although quicker took him to the back end of the Dunder-Mifflin block.

Honestly, his head was still reeling after everything that happened, but a dull resignedness had already started to settle in.

Because of this, it was more than a little shocking when he turned a corner to the left-hand-side of the building and practically ran right into her.

"Pam?"

"Oh, hey, I have to go." She hurriedly turned away from him, and he was about to question her actions when he realised she was holding a phone to her ear. "Yeah, mom, I think - I think I am." There were tears to her voice, but he couldn't tell what they were from. "Bye, love you too."

He tapped one finger at his thigh, waiting a beat before she finally turned back to him.

There was a new aura of confidence to her. "Listen, Jim-"

But he kissed her.

He didn't even know why he was doing it - you don't just kiss the girl who rejected your confession of love less than an hour ago, it's suicide - but tonight seemed to be all about acting on simple impulses alone.

She was tense but didn't make any move to pull away, and relaxed when his hands gravitated towards her waist. Hers sprung to his chest, and as the moment prolonged (not that he could entirely tell, as time seemed to simultaneously slow down and speed up) her hands slid up to his neck and shoulder.

Altogether, the experience was more verging on the bitter side of things, but hey, if this was the pity-prise, it was the best he had ever received.

All too soon, she pulled away.

And they were left, staring.

In silence.


	27. if only you knew my dear

**forgot to mention this a couple chapters ago - i DID change my url mynameisnotmya ratherbefree as a few issues came up regarding my personal life intercepting with my online one. i may change my url back at some point**

 **ALSO thought i should elaborate more on the infrequent updates? i have exams beginning this week and lasting until the end of january, so although i am NOT going on hiatus, updates will not be every friday. i'll try to update a couple more times during this month at least. weekly updates should be back in FEBRUARY**

 **title taken from: "The State of Dreaming" by Marina and the Diamonds :)**

* * *

Her mother had asked if she was okay 4 times since she arrived back home.

The first was cloaked in casual curiosity, so Pam shrugged it off as just being her mother's natural need to know about the wellbeing of her daughter, especially as they hadn't spoken since the phone call that night.

The second was just before she was called down to dinner, having taken some time away from the prying eyes and welcome-back hugs to unpack some of the things she'd brought from the dorm at school. Mrs. Beesly had peered around the doorway, eyes scanning the room until she found Pam, sitting on the edge of her old bed, seemingly staring into space. In her defence, it hadn't been that long - only a minute or so at the point of interruption - but this still worried her mother.

The third was during dinner, presumably because she figured that if there was an audience to witness it, namely her father and sister, then she would feel obligated to open up a little, to finally say what was on her mind.

When the third try didn't work, she knocked tentatively on her room door just as Pam was getting ready to go to sleep, duvet pulled up to her chin, listening to the sounds of a house well lived-in - the creaks and whirs and wind rushing at the windowpanes. "Everything okay, hon?"

Her answer was the same as the previous tries. "Yeah, I'm just a little tired is all."

She could almost feel her mother's frown from the other side of the door, and maybe on any other day she would feel guilty for it, but right now all she wanted to do was numb her thoughts and rest.

"Alright." The reply came after a prolonged moment, followed soon after by the worried footsteps shuffling down the hall, and barely a second later, the soft creak of her own bedroom door.

Pam lay back and listened until she drifted off to sleep.

* * *

The second day back at home was a little better, giving Pam some hope that perhaps Christmas break could just be normal.

She slept in, waking up to the noise of a busy family breakfast from downstairs. She swung her feet down to the hardwood floor, the soles of her feet tingling at the cold, hard, familiar-yet-unfamiliar feel of it. As she padded to her bedroom door, she caught sight of herself in the mirror on her vanity, and offered the tired, blank-looking girl in the reflection a half-hearted smile.

The further down the stairs she went, the louder the noise from the dining room became. When she entered the room, hand hesitating on the doorknob for a brief second before making up her mind, she was greeted with overly bright smiles and almost wary glances.

"Breakfast's on the table." Her mother stated needlessly.

"Thanks." Pam replied, mostly because it seemed like the right thing to say. She made her way to her old seat at the table, next to her sister, and began to pile scrambled eggs onto her plate.

Conversation started as usual - questions directed at her sister about school, to her mother and father about work, to herself about her major and 'exciting' things happening at college.

"How are all your friends?" Her sister asked, somewhat carefully. "That one guy you wouldn't shut up about at Thanksgiving… Tim, right?" She missed the warning look from her mother.

Mrs. Beesly shot Pam a sympathetic sort of look - _you don't have to explain if you don't want to._

Pam just shrugged, hoping that her feigned disinterest could come across as genuine. "Jim." She corrected. "He's… We haven't spoken since before we left." Her words were chosen carefully, because honestly, she had no idea how he was.

(It was true what she said - they hadn't had any contact since the night outside the Dunder-Mifflin block. She left pretty late in the afternoon, and saw Karen Filipelli a couple hours beforehand rolling a suitcase towards the elevators, so unless something changed, she guessed he left in the morning, too.

The only person from their small circle of friends she had spoken to the day she was leaving was of course Kelly, who gave her a tearful hug goodbye and made her promise to 'keep in touch', despite Pam's many assurances that she would be back after the Christmas break.)

Her sister bobbed her head and, with a knowing air about her, returned to her mug of coffee.

Pam shovelled more food into her mouth to keep from talking.

* * *

 _sent 15:34_

 _TO: Pam_

 _FROM: Roy Anderson_

 _do you want to come to dinner tomorrow?_

 _read 16:02_

* * *

 _sent 16:11_

 _TO: Roy Anderson_

 _FROM: Pam_

 _um i don't know.. i think my family would want me to stay with them - they missed me_

 _read 16:12_

* * *

 _sent 16:15_

 _TO: Pam_

 _FROM: Roy Anderson_

 _they're invited, too! ;)_

 _read 16:15_

* * *

 _sent 16:29_

 _TO: Roy Anderson_

 _FROM: Pam_

 _okay?_

 _read 16:32_

* * *

 _sent 16:33_

 _TO: Pam_

 _FROM: Roy Anderson_

 _;) ;)_

 _read 16:35_

* * *

"Mom?" Pam called as soon as she received Roy's last text.

"Yeah?" Her mother called back from downstairs. Within moments the tapping of her shoes sounded up the stairs, and soon she was standing behind her daughter's door. "Can I come in?"

"Uh-huh." Pam replied, softer this time.

Her mother entered, shutting the door slowly behind her. "What's up?"

Pam realised she probably was under the impression that her daughter finally wanted to open up about what had happened before she came home, and felt guilty for a split second. "Uh, has Roy called recently?"

"No, why?" Her brow furrowed. "Is this about what happened on-" She cut herself off, shaking her head emphatically. "Haven't you told him yet?"

"It's not about that." Pam assured her. "We were just texting… He wants to invite us out to dinner tomorrow."

"Us?" She repeated, head cocked to the side in confusion. "'Us' meaning…?"

"All of us." Pam confirmed, nodding. "The entire family."

"Oh!" Mrs. Beesly cried, surprised. "Well, isn't that - Isn't that nice of him. Did he mention why…?"

"Nope. I just wasn't sure if you knew or not, so…"

She hesitated before saying what was clearly on her mind. "Honey, if this'll make you feel awkward, or upset, then just know that none of us expect anything from you but-"

"I'm fine, mom." She attempted a half-hearted roll of her eyes. "Seriously."

She earned a reproachful look from that.

"Okay," Pam relented. "Maybe I'm still a little…" What was the right word? "Rattled. From what happened. But really-"

"You never did tell me what happened, though." Mrs. Beesly pointed out. "You don't have to, of course." She added hastily at her daughter's hesitation.

"I, uh… Nothing happened, really. He just said what he said and I guess I was a little confused about it all - it was dark and we'd just been at a party and we were all on the verge of leaving…" She shook her head before she could say anything more. "I mean, I don't know. He's my best friend."

Her mother, miraculously, seemed to understand it all.

* * *

Late at night, right in the prolonged time between reading her book and actually falling asleep, when the room was bathed in soft darkness and her eyes were just tired enough to make everything seem a little fuzzy round the edges, she couldn't help but think of that night.

Something influential happened, something changed, and she still wasn't entirely sure how to feel about it.

On a whim, she blindly reached for her phone on the nightstand.

* * *

 _(1) unsent draft_

 _composed 00:17_

 _TO: Jim Halpert_

 _i miss you_

* * *

 **kudos to anyone who can guess what's happening with roy's dinner ;)**


	28. it's my party

**title taken from: "It's My Party" by Helen Shapiro**

 **:)**

* * *

"Is that what you're wearing?" Emily wrinkled her nose at her sister's current outfit.

"What's wrong with it?" Pam asked, not even trying to disguise her exasperation. She had already changed out of 2 other outfits already, having doubts about each of them, before finally choosing the one she was wearing currently: an old blouse and skirt combo that she had had since she was around Emily's age.

"Nothing, I guess, I just thought…" She leaned against the doorway, letting out a long-suffering sigh. "You might've wanted to make more of an effort for dinner with your boyfriend, who you, incidentally, haven't seen in a while."

Pam gave a noncommittal shrug. Truth be told, she wasn't exactly looking forward to the dinner. The possibility of seeing Roy again made her feel uneasy, and not just from the guilt of (technically) cheating on him.

"Well, I guess it's okay. Roy won't mind - and mom says we'll have to hurry, anyway, if we want to get there on time." She nodded, seemingly mostly to herself. "I'll go. I've gotta find my shoes."

"Okay," Pam called after her as her sister thudded down the stairs. Her gaze lingered on the hallway for a moment, before she managed to return to the task at hand.

She turned her straighteners back on and waited a few seconds for them to reheat, before gently picking them up and clamping them down on a section of hair. At the point of her interruption, she had only succeeded in doing half of her hair, and the rest sat in a curly wad over her shoulder.

A part of her wondered why she was going to this much effort for him - for any of this. Roy had never exactly made much of an effort for her, except for a few occasions when he deemed it necessary to impress. Since… Everything that happened before the break, she couldn't help but over-analyse every relationship she had in her life, and she was finding it more and more difficult to rationalise all of the worry over him.

(It wasn't as if the 5 years spent with him had been all bad. There had been plenty of lovely moments - mostly in the first couple of years, but still - and he probably knew her better than anyone. Despite her varying thoughts and other people's doubts, she truly believed he was a good guy at the core.

But there was just something that wasn't right about them. And since returning to school from Thanksgiving break, she had hardly thought of him when they weren't in direct contact. He didn't really understand her - which she knew was different from loving her, but nevertheless… She wanted, really, to be with someone who she didn't have to explain herself to constantly.)

Within 10 minutes she was done - though the last half still had a bit of a wave in it - and toeing on her flats. Before leaving her room to join her family in the car, she caught a look of herself in the mirror.

She was less tired-looking than she had been the day prior, but even she could tell that there was a certain weariness in her eyes. In the reflection, she watched herself touch a hand to the comforting outline of the necklace under her shirt.

* * *

"Isn't this exciting?" Helene Beesly remarked, staring up at the restaurant in front of them. It was admittedly rather bland by most standards, but compared to the usual date places Roy took her to (Chilli's, Applebee's, Hooters that one time, and occasionally Olive Garden if there was something to celebrate) it was overwhelmingly fancy.

Pam nodded in a way she hoped was convincing, shoving her hands in her pockets and pulling her jacket more tightly around her. "Roy said to be here at 7."

"It's 10 past." Emily interjected.

"Yeah, but…" Even to her own ears, her voice sounded full of doubt. Roy usually wasn't exactly on time.

"We'll freeze out here, though." Her father pointed out. "Let's just go inside, and if he's not there, we can wait."

There was mumblings of agreement from her mother and sister, and before she could decline the offer, they were all traipsing into the warm restaurant, hovering in the heated waiting area and looking pretty overdressed in their winter coats.

Pam shuffled her feet at the floor, scuffing one boot over the other, fully prepared to wait until Roy showed up, but was interrupted by Mrs. Beesly nudging her arm. "Isn't that him over there?"

She looked to where her mother was gesturing - a large booth in the far right corner of the room, and nodded. He was there, on time, dressed up for a change. He had foregone his usual attire of a teeshirt and khaki shorts for a poloshirt and smart-looking jeans.

To her left, her father was already speaking with the maître d'. She couldn't really hear over the thrum of the restaurant, but from the direction he was pointing in, it was clear he was explaining that they would be joining Roy.

"Ah, yes." The girl, who couldn't be much older than Pam, was saying. "I believe there are already menus there. Your waiter should be there soon after you've all settled in." She left them with a polite smile and vague wave towards the booth in the back.

Pam swallowed forcefully, and wondered why her feet wouldn't work.

* * *

Roy was pleasant during the entire meal.

And though she rationally knew this wasn't something she should be so surprised about, Pam couldn't help it. He gave serious answers to her parents questions about his studies in school, and followed them up with questions of his own about their work. He acknowledged her sister in conversation, only playfully referring to her as "pipsqueak" once. He ordered soda with his meal instead of beer.

Her parents, of course, were loving it.

Overall, the evening was going far more smoothly than she had first imagined when he sent the text.

Needless to say, it was rather a surprise when, halfway through the main meal, he changed conversation topics to his relationship to her.

"I just wanted to take the time, here, to thank you all for Pam." Roy grinned at each of her family members in turn, shaking his head when they tried to protest. "No, seriously. You - all of you, her family - are the ones who made her into the person she is today."

Unsure of what to say, Pam just shot him a smile that she could physically feel straining across her face.

"Pammie's been here, with me, through thick and thin. Even when I, you know. Wasn't accepted into the same college as her. Honestly, when I got that rejection letter in the mail, I thought that would be the end of us." At this, he reaches across the table for her hand, which she (stupidly, she thinks) left limply in front of her. "But she stuck with me."

"Aw," Mrs. Beesly cooed.

Next to her, Mr. Beesly was wearing a sort of uncomfortably pleased expression on his face.

To Pam's right, Emily's eyes were awkwardly fleeting all over the table, as if she wasn't quite sure what to look at.

She felt her hand start to clam up.

"And I know I haven't been the best boyfriend in the world…" Roy continued, shaking his head at himself. "God knows I've probably put Pam through some shi- Uh, stuff."

She was hyper-aware of his every movement, because the tone of his voice sounded like he was ramping up for something, and she didn't quite know what to expect.

"But 2016 is gonna be different."

She couldn't see where his other hand was.

"I'm gonna be better next year. The end of this year, too, I guess." His awkward laugh didn't do anything to relieve her tension.

He sobered, and done one more sweeping look at everyone sitting at the table. "Which is why I'm committing. For good. Right now."

He was shifting in his seat.

"Pammie - Pamela. I'm in love with you."

(She flinched at the words.)

And suddenly he was moving out of his seat, moving round to where she and Emily were sat. The latter immediately shifted her chair to the side to make room.

She couldn't take her eyes off him.

"And we've been together for a super long time. Through thick and thin, right?"

He was crouching, balancing, kneeling on one knee. In front of her.

"Pammie."

She risked one quick look at his eyes, and they were swimming with… Something.

She had to look away after just one second.

Meanwhile, he was slowly bringing one hand round his waist, and there was a little box clutched between his fingers.

"Will you marry me?"

He popped the lid.

Her mother reacted before she could, emanating a soft shriek. Her father and sister didn't say anything, but she could hear their breaths start to quicken. In the far background, there was a clicking noise. The reason she could hear so clearly was because she wasn't breathing at all.

(Later, when looking back at this moment, she would be wondering why she didn't do anything. Why she didn't say anything for so long, why she just wasn't thinking at all.)

She stared, slack-jawed, for nearly a minute before the first coherent thought passed through her mind.

 _"No",_ she thought, watching his eyes flick around.

"Um…"

 _"This can't be happening."_

She felt her eyes start to prick and her cheeks warm, like when it was freezing outside and she stepped inside for the first time in a long while. Unpleasant, even though it should be the opposite - the heat overwhelming, making her feel like she couldn't breathe.

She couldn't breathe.

"I…"

Finally, she was able to tear her eyes away from the hoop, instead catching sight of Emily. Her face betrayed none of her thoughts - her sister was simply focused at a spot just past Pam, near the exit.

Roy murmured something that sounded an awful lot like "come on, Pam" and was obviously meant to be encouraging.

"No." She uttered, still feeling stunned by the whole thing.

Time had been passing excruciatingly slowly since he dropped to one knee, but suddenly, it was all back at normal speed.

"Pamela." Her father said, speaking for the first time since before Roy began his speech.

"Are you-" This came from either her mother or her sister, but she couldn't be sure which.

"No." She said again, louder this time.

"What—?" Roy began, but was cut off.

Pam shook her head, so quickly that she could feel her brain rattling around. "No."

"You're saying no?" Roy asked, eyebrows shooting up into his head.

She was saying no. She, Pamela Morgan Beesly, had absolutely no intention of marrying Roy Anderson.

"People are staring," he continued, in a warning tone of voice.

It was true - the people from the tables around them were, explicitly, staring right at them. The eyes of the whole restaurant, it seemed, were trained to the scenario happening at that exact moment.

And it was mortifying.

"We've never talked about this before." Her voice was going wobbly. "Why would you do a public proposal if we've never even spoken about marriage?"

"Romantic gesture." Roy stated, as if it was obvious. He was still kneeling, box still open in one hand.

"Well, I don't… I can't-"

"Pam-"

"I have to go." She said it mostly to herself than anyone else, but all of a sudden she found herself packing up her things, setting her plate to the side.

Her family remained sitting, seemingly in shock. Blinking forcefully, Pam grabbed her coat from the back of her chair and stumbled through the restaurant, not even knowing where she was going, just needing to get as far away from the situation as possible.

* * *

 **thanks for reading so far!**


	29. look at me because i exist

**friday updates will be resuming now! i think there's just a few more chapters of this left, depends on the plan. it's crazy that there's already over 50k words of this - it's the longest project i've ever written, and i just want to thank you all for sticking with it and reading so far! :))**

 **title taken from: "i exist i exist i exist" by Flatsound**

* * *

Her phone pinged in the middle of the night, just a couple of hours after she had finally managed to get to sleep, after she was able to stop the constant words swimming in the forefront of her mind: "Will you marry me? Will you marry me? Will you marry me?"

It woke her up, as she was sleeping lightly, and she groggily threw a hand to the bedside table, groping around until she felt the cold plastic back. Once it was safely in her hand, she swung it back to the bed, clicking the phone on and immediately wincing at the brightness. Yikes.

Half-blinded, she somehow slid the brightness lever down to the lowest setting, but even that was too glaring, so she shielded her eyes with her hand while she checked her notifications.

 **Facebook - (1)**

God. She made a mental note to block the sender if it was nothing but a game request.

It wasn't, though, and she wished it was.

 **Jim Halpert liked a post you were tagged in.**

Her stomach flipped a little at his name, so she tapped the little box linking her to the post.

But.

The post was made by her clueless father. Captionless, with only two people tagged in it, one of whom's name was spelt incorrectly.

 **Roy Anserson. Pam Beesly.**

The image was a little blurry, obviously taken in the heat of the moment, but it wasn't hard to work out what exactly it was portraying.

She felt sick.

Roy on one knee. The ring box was half-open. You couldn't see her face, obscured from the angle, but it was clear that the photo was commemorating a proposal.

She could only imagine what people thought.

There was already a few likes. Ryan being one, her cousin the other, and Jim the last.

The irrational, panicked part of her wanted to storm into her parents' room, grab her father's phone and just delete the post, make sure no one ever saw it again.

The more logical part knew that the major damage had already been done.

So instead of overthinking it, she decided to simply let herself sleep for now, and deal with it all in the morning.

(As it turned out, she didn't end up getting much sleep, anyway.)

* * *

After a 20-minute tense conversation with her father about the photo, after which he finally took it down, (though, of course not until she had painstakingly relayed to him the exact technological steps involved in removing a picture) Pam was slumped over the dining table, watching the steam tumble up out of her coffee mug.

"We're going out Christmas shopping today." Her mother commented faux-casually from across the table.

"Oh?"

"We were wondering if you would like to come with us."

"'We', being…?"

"Myself, and your sister. Your dad's running errands for most of the day."

Pam considered it. It would probably be better than staying at home, wallowing over dumb Facebook notifications and implications, wouldn't it?

"Sure."

Her mother smiled like it was a relief.

* * *

Christmas shopping passed largely without incident, and Pam had almost all of her presents bought by the end of the day. (It was easier this year, considering the only people outside immediate family who were arriving on Christmas morning was her grandparents and lone cousin who lived near enough to warrant making an appearance.)

At some point in their meandering around the shopping centre, someone had suggested that they go for coffee afterwards, and so that is how she found herself jammed between a wall and a mountain of shopping bags, straining her ears to hear her mother over the loud chit-chat of the overcrowded Starbucks.

"Sorry, what?" She asked, raising her voice as loud and clear as she could whilst not shouting.

"I was asking," her mother replied, just as loud. "If you are excited for Christmas this year."

"Yeah, 'course."

"Haven't been going to any crazy college Christmas parties?" Emily asked with a knowing smirk.

"Um," her eyes widened. "I don't know." She decided to fake nonchalance. "I mean, a girl in my Art History class threw a small… Gathering, just before we left."

"Fun?"

"Yeah, I guess." She shrugged the shoulder not currently pressed into the wall.

"Anyway," Mrs. Beesly interjected, side-eyeing both daughters individually. "Christmas should be a little better this year than last, what with you not having to worry about applications anymore."

"Uh-huh." She sipped her coffee, only wincing slightly as it touched her lips. "But then it's back to school."

* * *

When she was a kid, Christmas Eve was often just as, if not more, enjoyable than Christmas Day.

Now, however, it was full of nervous anticipation and a grudging acceptance that the following day would be tiring and perhaps even a little exasperating. There was the food to help her parents prepare, and her grandparents to keep comfortable, and a cousin to attend to.

The meal preparation began in the mid-afternoon. Her mother selected a cheesy playlist from Spotify and danced around the kitchen while they waited on the oven to ding, and Pam thought that maybe everything would be alright.


	30. the waves they drag you down

**this chapter's p short**

 **title taken from: "Spanish Sahara" by Total Life Forever**

* * *

text.

* * *

sent 06:58

TO: Jim Halpert, Kelly Kapoor, 8 others

FROM: Pam

merry christmas everyone!

* * *

sent 10:04

TO: Pam, Kelly Kapoor, Ryan Howard, 11 others

FROM: Jim Halpert

happy christmas :)

* * *

sent 23:51

TO: Jim Halpert

FROM: Pam

hope you had a nice christmas day

read 23:52

* * *

sent 23:55

TO: Pam

FROM: Jim Halpert

you said that already

read 23:55

* * *

sent 23:56

TO: Pam

FROM: Jim Halpert

;)

read 23:56

* * *

sent 23:56

TO: Jim Halpert

FROM: Pam

i know, but it was a group text

read 23:57

* * *

sent 00:00

TO: Pam

FROM: Jim Halpert

well then. thank you :)

read 00:03

* * *

sent 00:05

TO: Jim Halpert

FROM: Pam

you're welcome :)

read 00:05

* * *

sent 00:06

TO: Pam

FROM: Jim Halpert

gtg now, sorry. waking up early tomorrow so need to catch some zzzzzzzz

read 00:08

* * *

sent 00:09

TO: Jim Halpert

FROM: Pam

oh okay. night :)

read 00:11

* * *

sent 00:15

TO: Pam

FROM: Jim Halpert

night

read 00:16

* * *

When Pam awoke the day after what had been a relatively successful Christmas, it was almost noon.

She toed on her slippers and retrieved the wine glass from her desk, swirling the red dregs around lazily and feeling for her cell phone in her pocket as she made her way from her bedroom to the kitchen.

"Hey, there." She addressed her sister, who presently was draped over the couch cushions, eyes glued to the TV.

"Mmmph." Emily groaned. "Too early for social interaction."

"I see." Pam took that as a request to turn on the coffee machine. "What's on TV?"

"Reruns." Emily replied, lifting an arm to change channels restlessly. "Too early for anything good."

"Ah." While she waited for the coffee machine to beep, she mindlessly flicked through the texts on her phone. There weren't any new ones, not since the miniature conversation last night with Jim, but nevertheless, she reread the texts anyway.

Although it was the first conversation they had had in quite a while, it still made her feel optimistic - it felt normal, right. Like the events after the Christmas party never happened.

(Which was what she wanted.)

(Right?)


	31. i know you have a heavy heart

**another shorter one.**

 **title taken from: "Lua" by Bright Eyes**

 **"** _(To_ _Dear_ _Hey, there)"_ **meant to be written in strikethrough; upon uploading i realised ff . net doesnt seem to support that format yet.**

* * *

 _1.1.16 00:11_

 _(To_ _Dear_ _Hey, there)_

 _Jim,_

 _Writing this to avoid thinking too much about the fireworks outside._

 _Wait, that sounds bad. Sorry._

 _I don't know if you're ever going to read this. Mostly I'm handwriting because I think it'll be easier to gather my thoughts this way._

 _I miss you. I think that goes without saying, but I'll say it anyway._

 _I turned down a proposal from my boyfriend of 5 years because of what happened. You._

 _I don't know what that means, though. I don't think I'll know for sure until we see each other again._

 _You love me?_

 _I don't love you. I don't think. Not in the same way, at least._

 _But I think I want to see you again. I definitely want to kiss you again. Maybe?_

 _I don't know._

 _Maybe writing things down doesn't help all that much after all._

* * *

Pam tucked the little white envelope into her rucksack, refusing to analyse her reasons for wanting to bring the impulsively-written letter back to school with her.

Speaking of.

Currently her father was stowing the tiny suitcase into the trunk. Pam, Mrs. Beesly, and Emily watched by the front door.

"Call as soon as you get unpacked." Mrs. Beesly instructed.

"I will."

"And text once you get there."

"I will."

"And before you go to bed."

"Mom." She nudged her shoulder. "I will. Plus, Dad's driving me, so it's not like you have to worry."

Mrs. Beesly simply nodded her understanding, not saying much until her daughter was climbing into the car. They exchanged their final goodbyes, and Pam stared out the window as the car sped down the street, watching her mother wave.

* * *

Mr. Beesly helped her unpack the small amount of things she had brought back home.

He left soon afterwards, wanting to be home by dinner, kissing his daughter goodbye and offering her a one-armed hug.

It felt slightly strange to be back at the dorm. 2016.

January was supposedly a month of new beginnings, and college seemed to be the best place to put these new beginnings into effect.

Her first resolution was to become more confident.

Confident in her abilities, her decisions. Confident in herself.

So it took her only a minute to decide.

 **sent 18:42**

 **TO: Jim Halpert**

 **FROM: Pam**

 **what time are you arriving at tomorrow? we should talk. right? i miss you.**


	32. NOTICE (NOT A CHAPTER)

Hi,

I'm sorry to be writing this such a short time after my hiatus, but there will not be a new chapter up this week due to personal difficulties surrounding family.

Regular Friday updates will return as usual on the 5th of March.

Thanks for reading and following this story so far. There's probably less than 10 chapters left, plus an epilogue. If you've been reading since I began this fic back in May, I applaud you.

Hope you'll understand.

\- MJ


	33. like a drunk, but not

**sorry for the delay!**

 **title taken from: "Dance Anthem Of The 80's" by Regina Spektor**

* * *

Karen Filipelli was probably one of the coolest people Jim had ever met.

Her taste in music was great, she could hold discussion, and they had the same sense of humour. She was pretty and smart and nice and there was no reason _not_ to like her.

He repeated this to himself as they drove, frowning at the message he had just received.

 _"i miss you"?_

What the Hell was that supposed to mean?

How did she expect him to respond to that?

He clicked the lock screen off and slid his cell into the pocket of his rucksack once more, tuning back into whatever rant Karen was spouting about how her brother had spoiled _The Force Awakens_ before she had the chance to see it herself.

"…And it's just, you know, it's freaking _STAR WARS_! And I had school until Christmas break, so obviously I wouldn't have had any time to see it, and of course he knew that, the little-"

"I'm guessing that drove a wedge between family dinner, then?"

"Not just dinner. I refused to acknowledge his existence until the day after New Year's."

"Harsh."

"Yeah. Well." She tapped her fingers against the steering wheel, squinting through the windscreen to watch the traffic lights. "He deserved it."

"Totally."

"Don't you dare mock me." She warned, just as the light turned green. The car jolted forward unexpectedly, and he couldn't help but wonder if she did it on purpose. "I could kick you out the car if I wanted to. Never argue with the driver."

"Got it." Their eyes met in the mirror, and she smirked at him.

When he shot her a grin in response, her expression softened to a smile, and he had to look away.

* * *

The car rumbled to a stop in the Dunder-Mifflin car park. It appeared most people living in this block were already here - he recognised a few cars, and most ideal spaces were used up.

Karen clicked the button on the ceiling to pop the trunk, then turned to face him with a cheeky grin. "Ready for another semester in this shithole?"

"Definitely." Jim lied, even though the nervous fluttering in his stomach suggested otherwise. He pushed the door open and stepped into the cold, crisp air.

Karen already stood, waiting, rucksack slung over one shoulder and clutching the handle of her small suitcase. She watched as Jim made his way round the car, yanked his own suitcase from the trunk, juggling his rucksack and case until he finally found his balance.

"Let's go."

* * *

He hadn't texted her back.

It was probably nothing - he was probably driving or busy or his phone was dead.

Really, she had nothing to worry about.

But he still hadn't texted her back.

Pam was beginning to wonder just how stalker-y it would be to show up at his door once she thought he'd arrived.

It was today, right?

She was unpacked by now, rereading a couple chapters from her textbooks to remember what she'd been studying before the break.

Kelly was set to arrive in the evening. It was strange to see her half of the room looking un-lived in, almost barren. Though her roommate could be a bit much sometimes, she was looking forward to her return.

Another half-hour ticked past. Pam checked her phone again. Nothing.

10 minutes. Nothing.

20 minutes…

…Okay, so maybe she could just go see if Dwight was back, and if by chance she ran into Jim then that'd be fine, too.

With a resigned sigh, she shut the textbook from the page she had been staring at for the past 15 minutes, stretched her legs, and stood.

This was perhaps the clingiest thing she had ever done, she mused as she closed the door behind her. There were a few people milling around in the hallway, residents mostly, with a couple parents here and there. Pam gave a polite nod to Angela, who shot her a glare in response. Some things never changed.

She decided to take the stairs instead of the elevator, partly to give her more time to think about what she might say to him. What did she really _want_ to say? What did _he_ want to say to _her_?

Another flight of stairs, and she reached the top. This corridor was less busy but somehow louder. It emanated an air of bustle and commotion. From the sound of things, it seemed as though some were still settling in.

Jim's door.

Correction: Jim _and Dwight's_ door.

She rolled back on her heels, once, before stepping forward.

So the story was: she was going to see if Dwight was there, to ask about the upcoming lessons in their History course.

If Jim was there, she'd say hi, it was only polite.

If he wasn't, well.

Well.

It was this strategy that was running through her head when she knocked on the door, smart, stepping back to make room.

It was this strategy that was thrown out of her mind the minute Karen Filipelli opened the door.

?

?

?

"…" She tried, looking past Karen into the room. Jim's side, obscured by the open door. Dwight's side was bare - he wasn't back yet.

"Hey!" Karen shot her a pretty grin. "Pam Beesly, right?"

"What?" A third voice. Jim's.

Uh oh uh oh uh oh uh oh.

"Um, hey." She finally forced out, hating the way her voice sounded so small. She swallowed. Used her outside voice. "Hi, Karen."

"Pam?" Jim again.

She saw his foot first, stepping into the sliver of the room she could actually see. Then he took another step, and there he was.

Jeans and a grey sweater. Messy hair. From what, she wondered?

"Hi," she said again, stupidly.

It suddenly occurred to her that the last time they saw each other, in person, she could still feel the imprint of his hands on her waist, and her hands tingled after touching his chest. Sweater-covered chest. Like now.

 _Shut up, brain._

"What're you doing here?" He asked, simply.

Pam briefly checked his tone for any hints of suspicion or hurt or anger, but found nothing.

What was going on?

"Um." Her left hand gravitated to her neck, twisting the little horse charm on her necklace. "Sorry."

"You don't have to-"

"I was just looking for - for Dwight. I need - I wanted to know if he had any information on the course. For History. Class. 'Cause, you know how he is…"

"Yeah." He dragged out the word, surreptitiously glancing at Karen as if to say, _can you believe this?_ "He's not here yet. I can tell you when he is, though."

"Great. Thank you!" She began to back out the doorway. "And um, nice to see you again. You - You too, Karen!"

"Uh, yeah. You too."

"We should talk sometime, Pam!" Karen called, as Pam was a couple feet away from the door. She hadn't turned back, but she could tell the other girl was still watching her back.

"Yep!" She answered, before quickening her pace and scuttering away.

Oh, _God_.


	34. say what you want to satisfy yourself

**HUGE THANK YOU TO IDNAOJ80 FOR BETA-ING THIS CHAPTER, HELPING WITH PLOTHOLES, AND GENERALLY JUST BEING AN AWESOME HUMAN BEING!**

 **seriously.**

 **feel like i should preface this by saying that writing is hard lately - i know we're reaching the end of the fic and its always a little difficult to round things off in a sensical way, if that makes sense.**

 **this fic is already 55k+ words long. its the longest thing I've ever written, and i just wanna say thank you again to everyone who's been reading so far!**

 **title taken from: "Grace Kelly" by MIKA ;))**

* * *

The strangest part was that they hadn't actually talked about it.

Not that that was necessarily a bad thing. Secretly Jim had been dreading seeing her again - having to speak to her and pretend as though he hadn't once been able to kiss her.

She was engaged.

And even if she weren't, well. She publicly rejected him. He might not be the best person at picking up subtle hints, but he'd have to be pretty dumb to miss that one.

So for the first couple days back at school, he keeps his distance. He eats lunch off campus or with Karen and walks the long way back to the dorm to avoid her and acts like the lessons in class are just too interesting to miss out on.

It's just a little surprising how _okay_ she is with it all. Not once has she tried to actively seek him out. In class, she barely glances his way. Occasionally she'll say something, but it's always run-of-the-mill, polite things.

A calm _"good morning"_ or benign _"did you hear what the professor said just there?"_

He responds, of course, he's not rude, but she doesn't seem to notice that he's never actually initiated conversation.

And of course there was Karen.

They seemed to have fallen into some sort of relationship without either of them really discussing it. Jim didn't particularly think of her as a _girlfriend_ \- more, somewhere in between. Not just a friend, but not a partner, either… At least not yet, anyway.

She was nice and funny and laughed at his jokes. She wasn't engaged and didn't seem ready to freeze him out at any moment.

But then.

Pam was his friend, right? And, sure, he missed that. He missed walking to class together and making fun of Dwight and sharing mutual bouts of second-hand embarrassment after every one of Mr. Scott's lectures.

He just didn't miss the rest of it - awkward silences, moments being intentionally ruined due to fear, the not-so-resigned knowledge that he felt something she just couldn't reciprocate.

* * *

Sometimes, Kelly tried to coerce Pam into meeting the old group (if one could even call it that) for lunch. Her roommate, though occasionally insensitive, seemed to understand that there was some weirdness going on, however, and thankfully dropped the subject without much complaint.

Of course, she missed the way things were before the break.

Class, for example, was infinitely more boring. Recently she'd been trying to give him some space - perhaps, she thought, he just wanted some time apart. God knows she didn't blame him.

Except she did, a little. When she took deliberate detours to avoid walking past his business class, she often thought of how _unfair_ it was.

Really, it was his fault. His confession messed everything up between them. He loved her? How was she supposed to react to that?

Now Karen was in the picture. She knew her vaguely from around school and recognised her face from Art. She seemed nice enough. Why was there a part of her that hated the girl?

It was likely that he never truly loved her - what could any of them really know about love, after all, they were barely out of their teenage years - so really, the fact that he was able to move on so quickly shouldn't have shocked her as much as it did.

But it did.

* * *

So, yes - she wasn't engaged, after all. So what?

She was still way unavailable.

(It happened like this:

He was zoned out in class, thinking about his possible failure of a business pop quiz he hadn't studied for, and by the time he came to, he seemed to have missed quite a bit of important information, because the professor was speaking about an entirely different topic now and although most of what he said was garbage, Jim still really wanted to pass this class.

So he leaned over in his seat, fully prepared to just ask her if she had taken note of any vital stuff he'd said -

When there it was.

Her hand, her ring finger, minus the ring.

Huh?

She caught him looking and silently shifted her laptop in his direction, without the usual little smile and eye-roll, because those kinds of friendly things were exactly the kind of things they didn't do anymore.

He murmured some sort of thanks, copied out the couple of sentences worth of information. She caught his eye to make sure he was done, bobbed her head a little, and went back to staring resolutely at the professor's desk.)

And she wasn't engaged. Either that, or Roy was sloppy.

Most likely the former, right?

Sure, a part of him was a little annoyed. Wasn't her engagement - whether real or not - the whole reason for all the awkwardness between them?

Why didn't she tell him?

Of course, he already knew the answer.


	35. its a pain that i keep seeing your name

**thanks again to idnaoj80!**

 **sorry for the shorter updates recently - we are reaching the end, which is strange on its own, but currently I'm actually writing applications for Uni, so thats something.**

 **title taken from: "Small Poppies" by Courtney Barnett**

* * *

Usually Jim didn't go out on these sorts of nights.

Or any nights, at all, really. Ever since college started last fall, he was always either too busy with class or too preoccupied with friends to even consider leaving campus for any large amount of time during the week.

But Karen had insisted, and she'd been so nice about the whole thing that he had eventually just given in.

Which was how he ended up at the local cinema, viewing The Revenant with an ever-increasing sense of boredom looming over his head.

His - what, girlfriend? - 's words kept rattling around his mind, so loud he could hardly focus on any of the dialogue in the movie. (Not that he particularly wanted to; honestly, he didn't really care whether Leonardo DiCaprio made it back to civilisation or not.)

 _"What are you, agoraphobic?"_

It wasn't even that it was insulting. Not exactly. And she hadn't intended it to be mean; it was just a throwaway comment, but. It was just weird. To hear. He wasn't the type of person to go out on a Thursday night to see a movie when he could be hanging out with friends or listening to music or - God forbid - studying.

(Though maybe he should scratch the former option. Everything was weird in their friendship group since he got back. He hadn't been showing up to the former table at lunch very often, and Pam never arrived at all, and Ryan and Kelly were always either fighting or making out obnoxiously in the corner, and Dwight was, well… Dwight. So.)

Karen shifted beside him, drawing him out of his reverie. She glanced up with a smile tinted with confusion, complexion washed out by the flickering lighting of the screen in front of them. It was only then that he realised he hadn't been really watching the movie the entire time he was lost in his thoughts - his gaze had drifted to the left corner of the room instead.

He shot her a smile back and trained his eyes to the screen.

* * *

Apparently over the break Karen had become much more popular within their class.

Or maybe, Pam mused, watching from her usual seat as the small group gathered around the other girl, she had always been this well-liked by their classmates, and it had just never occurred to her to pay any attention to it.

It just seemed as though, ever since she started her - _thing_ \- with Jim, Karen Filipelli was appearing on Pam's radar much more often.

All of a sudden they were running into each other in the hallways, bathrooms, and even the cafeteria.

Then of course there was Art - damn Art - where for a good few times each week, she was forced to remain in the same room as her for an hour, sometimes more. Which of course was just great.

Presently she appeared to be fawning over her new relationship. Pam couldn't really help but listen in, considering the professor was already late.

"Oh, I'm just so happy for you, sweetie, honest." Phyllis Lapin-Vance enthused, clasping her hands together in front of her.

Karen smiled and thanked the older woman, ever polite.

The other two girls - Pam didn't quite know their names - nodded and agreed and said similar things - they were happy for her, she deserved this, Jim was lucky to have her, et cetera.

The only other female in the class who seemed to be absolutely uninterested in the whole affair was, of course, Angela Martin. She was sat primly in her seat, back ram-rod straight, dutifully staring at a point just above the professor's desk.

Pam sidled up to the other girl, figuring it'd be nice to speak to someone in the class who, like she, couldn't care less about that relationship.

(And she _didn't_ care. Honestly. Truthfully. Seriously, she couldn't care less. Okay?)

Her faint illusion of striking up a friendship with the girl was shattered, however, as soon as she opened her mouth.

"What?" Angela snapped, stubbornly refusing to take her eyes off hr spot on the opposite wall.

"Um." Suddenly self-conscious, Pam tried to take a different, more nonchalant route. She was determined to speak to someone who would talk about something other than Karen Filipelli. "The teacher's crazy late, right?"

"Yes."

"And, uh… Oh, hey, you stay on the same floor as me, right? In the Dunder-Mifflin building, I mean?"

"You don't remember me?" Her tone was a curious mix of offended and middle threatening.

"No, no, of course I - I do! I was just, um…"

"You know, I'm kind of busy right now."

She clearly wasn't, but Pam could take a hint. "Oh. Okay, then. But, uh, we could hang out sometime, right?"

"Perhaps."

Unsure of what else to say, Pam retired to her old seat. So, she and Angela seemed destined to not be friends. That didn't mean she couldn't get to know other people, right?

Because ever since Jim and Karen started…whatever…nothing in their old friendship group had been the same. Pam hadn't been meeting the others at lunch all that much since school resumed. According to Kelly, Jim was also increasingly skipping out. And Ryan and Dwight were hardly permanent fixtures in the group, anyway, so…

Perhaps the old group was dead, and she needed to find more people.

People that weren't going to randomly confess their love for her and then go radio silent for over a month.

People who, after confessing their love and going radio silent, wouldn't return to school with a completely new girlfriend. People who wouldn't act as if she didn't exist.

(Yeah, maybe she cared a little bit.)


	36. but he means validate me, pretty please

**title taken from: "Pretty Please" by Jamie Lenman**

* * *

After nearly 2 weeks of complete silent treatment from his old friend, Jim decided it was finally time to actually seek Pam out and really talk to her.

The whole situation was really - getting out of hand. They hadn't spoken properly since before school started back, and sure, some of that was his fault, but he was going to amend that now.

Just, sometimes when they talked, it was hard to forget the way things used to be. And it was exceptionally hard to forget the way she sort of clutched at his sweatshirt and sighed last time they…

And, yeah - that was exactly why he had avoided speaking to her until now.

But now? It was going to happen. Definitely.

His hands were sweating a little as he approached her class. The professor was still lecturing, and presumably would be for the next 2 minutes or so, meaning he had some time to gather his thoughts and work out what he wanted to say to her.

 _Hi, how are you, long time no see, do you want to hang out sometime?_

It sounded pretty lame even to his own ears, but it was all he had so far.

Really, the words and the phrasing of the questions didn't really matter. All he really cared about was talking to her, logging some time with her, even if it wasn't anything close to the sort of things they did together before the break. He was prepared for it to be awkward and messy and strange. He wasn't willing to just lose her friendship completely because of some stupid mistake he made.

All of a sudden, his phone buzzed in his pocket. He read the text without unlocking the screen:

* * *

 **sent 14:52**

 **FROM: Karen**

 **TO: Jim**

 **HELP ME! i think im about to die of boredom. journalism is officially THE WORST major in the world**

* * *

Ignoring it made him feel sort of guilty, but he slid the device back into his pocket nevertheless. Conversations with Karen usually began in some innocent way like this, but, more often than not, eventually turned into a lengthy talk about nothing in particular. Right now, he needed his attention to be focused somewhere else.

Just as he was wondering exactly how creepy it would be to press his ear to the door and try to listen in to the lesson (seriously, how long was this class? It was supposed to have ended by now) the sudden flare of chatter alerted him to the fact that the professor had likely just dismissed her students.

He dutifully stepped out the way of the door as people pushed through, talking and laughing and going their separate ways.

He really missed having a good friend in class.

The last few people stumbled out. It appeared that Pam was last.

When there was still no sight of her, Jim peered round the doorway to the classroom.

Ah. She seemed to be speaking to her professor about… Something.

Well. He could wait.

He watched as the professor scribbled something down on a sheet of paper. Watched the bounce of pam's hair as she nodded. Once, she admitted to him that she kind of found her hair a nuisance, and he wondered whether she still felt that way.

(At the time, he'd probably just rolled his eyes and made a comment masking as a joke about how she really didn't need to be self-conscious. Privately in the moment, he had wanted to tell her that she always looked beautiful.)

Of course, that was pre-I'm-in-love-with-you thinking.

He was so caught up in his thoughts that he barely noticed the door swinging open. If she saw him, she said nothing, merely walking past and continuing down the corridor.

"Hey, wait!"

She stopped walking, but paused for a short moment before turning to face him. "What?"

"I was just…" He had completely forgotten what he wanted to say to her. "I mean."

"I have a bunch of studying to do, so…"

"No, no. I. I thought we could hang out, y'know? It's been a while."

Pam shot him a small smile. It was a strange mix of pity, confusion, and resignedness. "Sure, but I don't have long."

"That's fine. Great!" Suddenly realising how far away they were, he took a few tentative steps towards her. He couldn't really predict her reactions to anything, nowadays, and he certainly wouldn't be surprised if she was wary of him coming closer.

"So… What did you want to talk about?"

Right. That. "I just thought, like, ever since me and Karen, you know… Started dating, or whatever… We haven't really hung out."

"Well, you have been spending quite a lot of time away." The last word was punctuated with an emphatic quirk of her eyebrows.

"Yeah, but… I don't know. I just wanted to make sure we're okay."

Pam downcasted her eyes, staring fixedly at the white rubber tips of her shoes.

"We're okay, right?"

"Yeah, yeah." She finally turned back up, but appeared to be looking anywhere but his eyes. "Of course we are."

"Okay."

"Yeah." She ducked her head once more. "I actually have some studying to do, like I said earlier, so I kind of have to…"

"Sure, sure. Go ahead. Um." In a last ditch effort to try and salvage… Whatever the conversation had become, he added: "See you around?"

"Um, yeah. Maybe."

She was halfway down the corridor when what she had said finally sunk in.


	37. if you weren't so stupid

**title taken from: "Stupid" by Brendan McLean**

 **not so happy about this one... though as i'm currently on Easter Holidays, I'll hopefully have more time to write the next few chapters.**

 **oh, and to the Guest who pointed out the mistake in the last chapter - thank you! its all fixed now :))**

* * *

The crisp, early February air gave Pam's skin a pleasant tingle as she walked across the grass from her building to the cafeteria. This day was set to be a good day - her usual History class had been cancelled practically last-minute by Mr. Scott, which meant that she had almost the entire day to herself until her next class at 4. She was planning to pick up something from the cafeteria as a sort of brunch, before retiring to her dorm room for a while to call her mom or study.

The entrance to the main building was in sight. Distantly, she heard the sound of someone running across the crunchy grass. Figuring it was a morning jogger or something, she ignored it, and simply ploughed on.

However, the runner got closer, the heavy footsteps louder, and finally, Pam gave in.

As soon as she turned, however, she regretted it.

"Oh, hey! Pam, right? Pam Beesly?"

Ah, shoot.

"Hi," she replied, awkwardly.

Karen Filipelli jogged closer. She definitely planned this. "I was hoping to see you, today, actually."

"Well, we do have class at quarter to 5…"

"I know, I know." Karen laughed, ignoring her companion's awkwardness. "I just wanted to speak to you before class."

"Oh."

"Yeah, um." The two fell into step. Apparently Karen was going the same way. They stomped in silence for a terrible, prolonged moment, until the other girl managed to find her words once more. "So, like, you and Jim used to be friends, right?"

It was the _used to_ part that really stung. Was that the way he described their old relationship? After his forced discussion the previous week, chasing her down the hallway, she assumed he still wanted to be… Well. Friends.

She made herself do a stiff little nod. "Sure."

"I mean, what am I saying, right? You're still friends." Karen laughed, seemingly picking up on Pam's aversion to her phrasing.

"I guess."

"Anyway," she continued. At least the building was growing ever closer. Once there, perhaps Pam could make an excuse that she had class or something. This conversation didn't appear to be leading to anything good. "I was wondering if you could… Give me some advice."

"Advice?" Pam slowed her steps, turning to face her companion for the first time since Karen joined her. "What do you mean?"

"Like, on how to deal with him."

"Is everything - alright, between you two? I don't mean to pry, but-"

"No, no, it's okay. You're not prying, I mean. We're-" Karen cut herself off with a sigh. "I just feel like… Like I'm more invested in our whole thing than he is. I'm always the one making the first move, right, and I just - he isn't - ugh."

Unsure of what to say, Pam merely nodded. What Karen was telling her was certainly _interesting_. It wasn't as though she was expecting this to happen - really, she wasn't - but in hindsight it did seem sort of inevitable that they would run into problems at some point or another.

Shamefully tamping down her inner smugness, she tried to school her expression into something more sympathetic. "I'm sure you guys will be fine. He's probably just going through a weird phase."

Karen made a noncommittal, disbelieving sort of noise.

They were so close to the building. Just another minute or so of the other girl's company, then she could make her excuses and leave.

To her pleasant surprise, the two walked practically in silence the rest of the way. Karen seemingly had nothing else to say on the matter, but apparently still wished for Pam's company. Perhaps it was a solidarity kind of thing. Having never experienced anything like this in a relationship before, Pam could only guess.

Except, had she? She remembered how, in the beginning of their relationship, she was almost constantly plagued by a certain fear to do with Roy. How he felt about her, what he saw in her; what made him, the somewhat-jock with a steadily rising number of friends, wish to spend time with _her_. At the start, she always held off a little on him. She never wanted to scare him away, and so to avoid causing any conflict, she would silence herself and sacrifice her own thoughts and opinions to placate his potential own.

God. If what Karen was currently feeling was just a fraction of what Pam had felt all those years ago, perhaps she should offer some assistance. (Even if the thought of contributing, even in some small way, to the other girl's relationship to her former friend was enough to give her a strange, almost empty feeling in her stomach.)

So when they reached the doors of the building, Pam scrapped the half-hearted apology/excuse combo on her lips and asked, instead: "Do you want to come to the cafeteria with me? We can talk properly there, if you want."

Relief flooded Karen's face, though she tried to remain polite. "Are you sure it's not too much trouble?"

"Not at all," Pam replied. Upon realising how still her voice sounded, she tried again. "I mean, I' be happy to give you some advice."

"Thanks." The two crossed the small entrance hall, entering the cafeteria on the left.

Inside, it wasn't particularly busy. Most people at this time of day had already eaten breakfast and were in class, so the few stragglers that were in the room mostly kept to themselves, utilising the place to study or chat with their friends over coffee.

Which, apparently, was exactly what Pam was about to do.

Karen chose a booth-like table, far enough away from the other occupiers that no one would be able to hear their talk. Pam sat down opposite her, and tried to figure out what to do with her hands.

"So, what did you want to…?"

"Oh! Um," Karen began, setting her phone face down on the table. Perhaps, Pam mused, because she was expecting him to text her. "I just… Like, we started dating over Christmas break, right?"

Christmas break?!

A new surge of indignation flooded Pam. Christmas break. She spent so much time, then, going over what happened on their last night of school in her head, thinking of every little option she could have said or done, feeling absolutely _awful_ for him, wanting to apologise… And all the while, he was dating another girl.

"Um. Yeah. Sure." She muttered in reply, not really remembering what Karen was trying to talk about.

"It's been, well, _nice_ … I mean, at first I thought he just wanted tot make things slow, y'know, 'cause it's a new relationship, but now…" She broke off with a sigh. "I mean, I like him and stuff, but I just don't know how _he_ feels about _me_."

"Uh-huh." Pam nodded.

It wasn't that she didn't feel bad for Karen, but…

But?

Was there really any sentiment to follow that up?

After all, had Karen ever (intentionally) acted anything but civil to her?

With a jolt, Pam realised that, ever since the beginning of the semester, she had just been acting very… Cold, to Karen. Did she really have any excuse for that?

Blissfully ignorant of her companion's thoughts, Karen continued on, mentioning the few relevant facts about her relationship.

"…And I just want advice. Like, what should I do? He's not putting any effort in, but I don't wanna break up, but I want him to know how I feel, but… Ugh!" She slumped down on the table, resting her head (perhaps uncomfortably) on the linoleum surface.

"I think…" Pam began, as her thoughts began to calm down. "I think you need to talk to him. Like, really talk to him. He needs to know how you feel." When Karen didn't look up, she added, hastily: "I mean, I know I've not been much help, but i just-"

"No, no, you're right." Karen finally said, lifting her head from the table. "You're right. And… Thank you." She shot the other girl a grateful smile. "I'll try to find him when he's out of class."

"You're welcome."

"Seriously, it's great to have a friend who I can just… Talk about all this stuff to." Karen admitted. "I mean, most of my closer friends here are dudes."

"Really?" Pam asked, intrigued. When they were in class together, she always seemed to be talking to the other women.

Karen nodded emphatically, before looking around. After shooting a somewhat apologetic glance to her companion, she said: "I guess I should probably get going, now." She checked her watch. "I think… _He's_ almost out of Spanish."

Discreetly, Pam checked the time on her phone, making sure to keep it in her lap under the table where Karen couldn't see. She was right - it was almost the end of his class.

(It sort of weirded her out how well she still knew his timetable, even after having had no reason to for the past few months.)

"I guess I'll - see you around, then?"

"Yeah, 'course! I'll see you in class." Karen gave her a thousand-watt smile and, almost impulsively, reached out to hug her. "And, thanks, you know. For everything."

"You're welcome." Pam replied, awkwardly patting her new friend's back.

When she was apparently satisfied, Karen took off to the opposite exit of the cafeteria.

Pam watched until she had turned the corner, then gathered up her things and left through the other door.


	38. i'm tired of the wait-and-sees

**title taken from: "At Least It Was Here" by The 88**

* * *

It seemed that the only thing more draining than spending every second with Karen was spending every second _arguing_ with Karen.

Which, for the past couple days, was literally all they had been doing.

What was most frustrating about the experience was her need to dissect not only the things he did and said, but also the things he _didn't_ do…

 _"Make a move"_ being one of them.

And now, as she had accidentally revealed to him during a late-night "discussion", she had been asking for _Pam's_ advice. Pam, who wasn't even involved in their relationship. Pam, who hadn't spoken to him since the beginning of the semester. Pam, who he previously professed his love to…

It was weird, right?

He liked Karen - he was pretty sure of that fact - but lately it was all becoming far too exhausting. Being in a proper, serious relationship was tricky. There were too many expectations, too little clarification.

But, as she had said whilst sympathetically patting his knee, just before she slipped out the room, Karen wanted to make it work. And so did he… Probably.

(Definitely. Maybe? Definitely.)

* * *

Pam arrived to History 5 minutes before the start of class, for perhaps the first time since the beginning of the school year.

There was only one other person in the class. Good.

Gripping the strap of her satchel for confidence, she strolled determinedly up to the bench Dwight usually occupied alone.

"Can I sit here?"

Her words seemed to surprise him. Squinting up at her, he asked, "What?"

"I said, can I sit here?"

"Why?" His eyes narrowed, and he protectively pulled his things closer around him. "Is this some kind of joke? Is Jim going to jump up behind me or something? What's going on here? I could go to the dean, you know! I could-"

"Dwight, no." She rolled her eyes in annoyance, but immediately regretted it. After all, the guy kind of had a point. When was the last time she spoke to him without being involved in some kind of dumb prank with Jim? "I mean, it's nothing like that. I was just wondering if I could sit here, today. You can even keep a seat between us, if you want."

"…Fine." Dwight grumbled after a moment of thought. He carefully shoved his books to the side and shifted his chair in to allow her to move past.

"'Here okay?" She asked, just to make sure.

He replied with a jerky, upwards nod.

"Thank you." She responded primly, setting down her satchel and pulling the chair back. She could feel his eyes boring into the side of her head as she set up her laptop, but chose to ignore it - he was already being uncharacteristically kind by allowing her to sit there; she needn't irritate him.

She had just finished booting up her laptop when the other students began to file in. Mr Scott followed soon after, walking with a jaunty skip in his step that totally contrasted to the slow, dead pacing of his students.

For a wild moment, she thought that perhaps Jim had decided to skip class that day. On the other hand, however, she kind of hoped to see his reaction…

When he finally slumped in through the door, she dutifully looked down at her desk, pretending to be completely uninterested in his reception to her new placing.

She watched out the corner of her eye, of course, as he passed. It was hard to tell, but she could have sworn he seemed confused.

Well, good.

That's what he deserved, after everything. The jerk.

He took his seat on the bench behind her without saying a word, merely busied himself by setting up his computer.

The lesson began, and, as per usual, Mr Scott drifted off into an irrelevant tangent within the first 15 minutes of his lecture.

Bored, Pam stared around the class. Dwight typed on beside her, obnoxiously loud, and occasionally knocked his right elbow against her left.

Scott was halfway through a story about his step-father when Pam felt a light tap on her shoulder.

She shifted, feeling (perhaps inappropriately?) excited about what he might say.

"What?"

Jim dropped his pen back to his desk. The clatter of plastic against wood was a little louder than expected, and so a couple students turned round, vaguely affronted. He shot them an apologetic smile before turning back to her. "What's up?"

"What do you mean?"

He gestured, mutely, to her desk.

"Just felt like a change." She shrugged, before straining her ears to check if Mr Scott had resumed the actual lesson. He hadn't.

"A change." He repeated, face blank.

"Yes." She responded, and waited a beat before continuing. "I should probably get back to my notes. Don't want to miss anything."

"But-" He stopped short when he realised Pam had already turned back to her desk.

* * *

Pam shucked her bag with a sigh, and flopped heavily down onto her bed. Just as she was kicking off her shoes, she noticed a piece of paper folded on her desk.

.

 _PAM!  
Figured I'd write you a note since you NEVER reply to my texts. Spending the night at Ryan's! Won't be back til tomorrow!  
\- K_

 _._

She shook her head at her roommate's antics. Tonight was not the first time Kelly had spent the night away from their room, but it was nice of her to let Pam know, for once.

This meant that she would have the rest of the evening entirely to herself. Before Christmas, this time would usually be spent in one of three ways: video-chatting with Roy, calling her mom, or hanging to with Jim.

Now, of course, there was only one option left.

However, no sooner had she found the number for her mom's cell than there came a knock at her door.

It wasn't locked. "Come in?" She called, unsure at who would wish to see her.

The door swung open, and Karen greeted her with a megawatt grin.


	39. but it felt like a downer

**i'm back! AND it's almost been an entire year since I started this! what?**

 **title taken from: "Sweet Sixteen" by Think About Life**

* * *

Apparently, Karen had taken Pam's advice.

And, apparently, the advice had worked.

She said as so during the intensely awkward (though possibly only on Pam's part), and thoroughly one-sided talk, punctuated mostly by wishful sighs and joyous hand-flailing.

Afterwards, she had flurried out the room with a promise to _"text if anything else comes up!"_ and Pam was left feeling even more confused than when the other girl had first entered.

She honestly didn't know what to feel. On the one hand, she should have been happy for Karen - she was a (new?) friend after all, and of course there was simply no reason _not_ to be glad about her successes… On the other hand, well.

Had a part of her really wished Karen to fail?

* * *

So. He had given in. Apologised. Promised. And now, he had nothing to worry about…

Except that he did.

There was just something in her expression when he confronted her. She seemed callous, uncaring, which usually was just so unlike her.

He didn't know if he was doing the right thing - about anything, really. Sometimes he got the impression Pam was mad at him, and other times she just seemed skittery and bashful. But he just couldn't figure out _why_.

He had tried talking, tried reasoning, tried thinking it all over. He had put himself out there for her, and she turned him down. That was the end of the story, right?

Why waste time thinking about someone who didn't want him, when he could invest more time into someone who did?

* * *

The tears were a surprise. They arrived suddenly, burning her eyelids and clouding her head. OhGodohgodohgod.

Is this what heartbreak felt like?

Her mind flashed to 10th Grade. Sitting, cross legged, in the bleachers, waiting (im)patiently for Roy Anderson to notice her. At the time, the invisibility hurt. Like he was twisting a knife inside her chest with every missed look. At the time, she had thought she was heartbroken.

But this. God. This was being set on fire.

Her cheeks burned, sobs came out in crackles. Why was she crying?

It was pitiful. That was the worst part of it.

After around 10 minutes had passed (though it could have been an hour; she had no clue) a soft knock sounded at the door.

 _No. What now?_

When she didn't answer, the knocking stopped for a second, then continued at a much louder volume.

It seemed as though whoever was at the door wasn't going anywhere anytime soon. Somewhat irritated, she swiped at her eyes with the back of her hand before calling, "Come in!"

"I'm missing a mechanical pencil and I was wondering where the last place you saw it was- What's going on?"

Of all the people who could have stood on the other side of the door, Dwight was the last person Pam had expected to see. "Huh?"

"What are you doing?" He reeled back a little, adjusting the strap of his high-slung backpack, clearly overwhelmed. "What is this? Why are you crying?"

"Dwight, it's nothing. I don't remember seeing your pencil, but maybe it rolled under a desk or something? I can-"

"No. Something's not right." He took a few tentative steps forward, regarding her with a mix of curiosity and wariness. "Are you okay? Who hurt you?"

"No one - No one hurt me."

"Then why are you crying?"

Once again, she brushed at her face and cheeks. They were sticky and itchy and raw. "I'm fine."

Dwight waited a beat, simply watching her for a while, then surprised her. He moved and sat, carefully, next to her on the bed.

For some reason the simple gesture made her cry even more, and she ducked her head to hide the tears that escaped her eyes.

"I'm - I'm sure it's gonna be alright." Dwight said, awkwardly. He reached out a hand to pat her back, but refrained at the last minute. "I mean, maybe not, because you never know what'll happen int he future, I mean, we could be dead by tomorrow, like, eaten by bears or something, but. You know. It's probably gonna be alright. Like, 20, maybe 25% chance." His tone of voice was so transparently soothing, so Dwight-like, that Pam had to suppress a chuckle.

"Thanks, Dwight." Her words were interrupted by a sob, but she figured the sentiment got across all right.

They sat in silence for a while, before Dwight spoke, once again speaking in the same comforting tone. "So I'm guessing you're PMS-ing pretty bad, right now, huh?"

She covered her face with her hands.

* * *

Dwight slipped out her room a good 15 minutes later, checking (at Pam's request) before leaving to make sure no one saw. Neither of them particularly wished for rumours to spread.

From her doorway, she watched his huge backpack recede down the hall, turn a corner, and finally disappear out of sight.

If she had bothered to look, she would have noticed that something was missing from her room. A notebook, mostly empty, though usually sat next to her laptop in History.

* * *

Dwight had a plan to fix things.

* * *

 **next chapter will include a throwback to one of the earliest chapters! (chapter 4, if anyone's interested...)**


	40. painless with immense distance

**yo! i'm thinking 2-3 chapters after this? honestly, this fic just keeps getting away from me!**

 **thanks as always to everyone who's been reading and reviewing!**

 **title taken from: "Taro" by alt-j**

* * *

Dwight barged into their shared room, launching without preamble in a speech clearly hastily prepared.

"Normally I don't care about you or your personal life or your friends or the personal lives of your friends. But-"

"Gee, thanks."

"Let me finish."

"I am."

"No, you're-"

"I am absolutely letting you finish. You're taking too long. Hurry up."

"Jim! You're just - You're making this take more time than is necessary!"

"I don't know where you got that idea from, but-"

"Damnit Jim!" Dwight seemed close to stomping his foot, like a child. After taking a brief moment to compose himself, he continued, in a slightly more calm tone of voice. "Like I said, although I normally do not care at all about you, I have something important to say. That you probably don't wanna miss." He added the last part when his roommate made a show of rolling his eyes.

"You're got 10 seconds."

"I - But - Ugh, fine!" Dwight shook his head, looking a little mad. "Whatever, Jim." He then slung his (ridiculously overstuffed) backpack onto the floor, before rummaging through it furiously.

"Need a little help there, buddy?"

"Shut up." After a few seconds, he retrieved the object he had been searching for.

It was difficult to see from where Jim was sitting, but… Was that Pam's notebook?

"Please tell me that's not what I think it is."

"Just hear me out." Dwight moved, slowly, across the small room. Keeping eye contact with Jim so he could see what he was doing, he placed the book gently down on their desk. "I know you guys have been weird recently. And it's creepy. It's making you both so emotional, and-" he wrinkled his nose, apparently unable to finish the sentence. "Anyway. I thought maybe if you were reminded of how things used to be, you'd stop being such a _Dummkopf_."

"What?"

"German, Jim. It's German for "idiot." God, learn a language someday." He scoffed. "Idiot."

Jim found himself staring at the book for slightly longer than was perhaps necessary, and by the time he looked back up, Dwight was already halfway through the door. "Wait, where are you going?"

"To see my girlfriend. We're happy together. Unlike some people."

And with that, he swiftly left.

As the door swung shut, Jim was left with his thoughts.

* * *

Things were getting ridiculous.

After her (embarrassing, humiliating, definitely-shouldn't-happen-again) breakdown in front of Dwight, Pam had constructed a plan.

There was just - too much, of all of it. Too many emotions and feelings and wishes. Since It happened, she had simply pushed it down, refused to acknowledge it, and look where that got her. (Hint: sobbing in front of a person who was, essentially, a stranger.)

So, she would tell him. Everything. All the words she pent up, regrets she tried not to think about. She would tell him all of it, and then she would be free.

It was terrifying and exciting and strangely calming all at once.

The secret knowledge of what she was planning to do burned through her blood, filled her with a sort of adrenaline until she was pushing back her desk chair and jumping to her feet with a jolt. Now.

She hurried out the dorm room, taking off without direction. Rushing down the stairs - not enough time to waste on elevators! - speed-walking through the foyer, whizzing through the double doors leading to the grassy area just outside.

Gah. Sun blinding. What was she doing, again?

The panic seemed to slowly be setting in. (But that was fine, a little panic was all fine, just as long as she didn't let it interrupt her plans, everything was fine.) Nevertheless, she stormed on, focusing on the sound of her keds slapping against the concrete pavement.

She must have zoned out, because the next thing she knew, she was virtually knocking someone off their feet. "Sorry! Sorry, are you okay?"

The other girl nodded, shooting her a half-annoyed, half-accepting look before continuing on her way. Pam breathed a silent sigh of relief, though it unfortunately was short-lived. As she brushed herself off, she caught sight of another person, briskly making their way up the very same path.

Grey sweater. Blue jeans. Mop of brown hair.

Oh God. She wasn't ready for this at all.

Pam stood, rooted to the spot, simply witnessing Jim spot her, witnessing the flash of recognition across his face, witnessing his tentative steps as he moved towards her.

"Hi," he greeted.

"Um." She tried. "…Hi."

* * *

 **kudos to anyone who can spot the significance of the jotter/notebook!**


	41. i never should have been set free

**title taken from: "despite what you've been told" by Two Gallants**

* * *

"So, what's up?" She was going for a sort of casual vibe.

"Um, nothing, just. You look about ready to pass out."

Huh. Looked like the whole "casual" thing wasn't working out, after all. Pam tried to school her expression into something less conspicuous. "I'm fine, sorry." She replied, once she thought she had succeeded.

"You don't have to apologise…" He raised an eyebrow. _Was he laughing at her?_ "Uh, but, are you alright?"

"Yeah? Yeah. I'm fine! Why?"

Jim merely blinked at her.

"Oh, right, sorry, I know why. You just told me why. I'm fine, anyway. No need to worry."

"…Right, then." He took a step back, clearly intending to move past her to continue on his way.

Now was her chance! She could tell him what she came out here to do! What she left the safe cocoon of her room to do! Now!

"I…"

Now!

"I…"

"I should go." Jim interrupted her non-sentence, squinting into the distance with a shrug.

Of course, he had places to be! People to see! Things to do! Yet another reason why it would be best for her to leave her confession until a later date.

"Oh, sure! Sorry. That's okay. I'll have to get going, too… Um. I'll see you around, right?"

"See you around." He looked conflicted, as if there was something else he might want to say, but at the last moment simply shook his head, gave her a little wave, and continued on his way.

Meaning that Plan A had officially failed.

Ugh.

* * *

Karen had organised another date for the night - something more casual, thankfully, just coffee at a little independent place downtown - meaning he had had to rush out of class, hurry across the grass, get back to his dorm as quick as possible.

But then he'd ran into Pam, and she just looked so lost and maybe a little sad, even, and really it would only be fair of him to at least stop and ask her how she was doing.

As usual, the conversation was short and stunted, and left him feeling a whole lot worse than he did before.

Though there was no time to think. Stopping had made him late, and so he had a whole lot less time to get ready now.

So he banished all thoughts of Pam from his head, and went about his day.

(Needless to say, it didn't exactly work out.)

* * *

When she confessed her plan to Kelly, her friend emitted a squeal so loud that Pam had to cover her ears for protection. Once her friend had calmed down a little, she was able to explain her reaction. "Oh. My. God, Pam! I had no idea! I mean, okay, sure, I had a little bit of an idea but, you know, you kept denying everything and stuff… But now you've finally admitted it?! You love Jim!"

"Woah, no." Pam hastily interrupted. Couldn't have Kelly getting the wrong idea about all this. Hah. Love? That was ridiculous. "I don't think _love_ is the right term to use."

Kelly appeared to humour her, though rolled her eyes as she conceded. "Fine, whatever. Call it whatever you want, it doesn't matter. But, Pam, this is huge!" At this, she reached over to fling her arms around Pam's neck, forcing her to reel back a little to prevent from toppling over.

"I tried to talk to him today." Pam admitted once her friend had released her, staring at a spot on the floor. "We ran into each other outside, and I really meant to tell him, but the words just - Just wouldn't come out. I just stood there, stuttering, until he finally made his excuses and left." She groaned as she relived the moment. God, why was she so awkward?

Kelly nodded, eyes wide in sympathy. "I remember what it was like trying to get Ryan to notice me." She sighed, explaining. "It's tough."

"Um… Yeah." Pam replied, not entirely sure she could relate to Kelly's experience. The other girl was acting surprisingly empathetically, though, so she accepted her efforts. "Anyway, I just - I don't know. After what happened today, I'm kinda scared to try again. Before, I had this rush of anticipation and boldness, like I knew exactly what I wanted and exactly how to go about getting it… But in the moment, I just froze." She shook her head.

Her friend appeared to be mulling the situation over, eyebrows knitted together in thought. Finally, she came back to Earth, and a sheepish, almost guilty look came across her face. "Jim and Karen are going out tonight. I passed her in the hall earlier - she seemed pretty excited about it."

"Ugh," Pam groaned, covering her face with her hands. She attempted to shove down any feelings of anger or disappointment - it wasn't his fault, or Karen's for that matter… Neither of them knew. Nobody knew.

Except, now, Kelly.

"But that totally doesn't mean you've lost your chance." Her roommate encouraged. "You can just, like, tell him tomorrow." She then proceeded to detail exactly _how_ Pam could go about admitting her feelings to him, complete with a step-by-step plan.

As Kelly was distracted, Pam pulled out her phone.

* * *

 **sent 19:47 - 19:58**

 **TO: Jim Halpert**

 **FROM: Pam**

 **i know you might not want to hear this right now but**

 **i don't know i'm feeling impulsive and if we do it this way then i cant run away right?**

 **i guess i just really miss our friendship**

 **like we used to be really close and now**

 **things are just weird between us?**

 **and it sucks**

 **i wish we could go back to the way things were but i know its not exactly fair to say that**

 **i suppose i just want to say**

 **i miss our friendship**

 **and i miss the old group**

 **we hardly ever hang out anymore! i miss hanging out**

 **(mostly with you, not the whole group)**

 **and i wanted to say this when we ran into each other today but i froze**

 **i dont even know if sending these texts is a good idea or not but im feeling impulsive**

 **im sorry if this makes you feel weird**

 **i just needed you to know**

* * *

As she watched the little blue bar shoot across the top of her screen, signalling the final text had been delivered, she wondered why the words felt so familiar to her.

It was but a moment later when a small tick appeared at the bottom of her last message.

* * *

 **read 20:01**


	42. used to being told that you're trouble

**shorter chapter this week! i'm guessing most of you know where this is going, now...**

 **title taken from: "Stuck on the puzzle" by Alex Turner**

* * *

Karen (rather understandably) had a vendetta against people who texted during face-to-face conversations, and so when Jim's phone dinged for the first time, he immediately apologised and moved to fix it to silent. The name on the screen, however, stopped him. Why would _Pam_ be texting him?

If he hadn't felt his girlfriend's eyes boring into him, he would have taken the time to read the text - and the following two that also were delivered during the time he spent staring, fixated, at his phone - but he didn't want to make things more awkward with Karen than they already were, and so he made a show of switching the little button on the side, before shoving the device back into his pocket.

(He made it nearly a whole 15 minutes until the curiosity overtook him, however, and whilst Karen was in the bathroom he quickly pulled out his phone again and scanned the messages as fast as he could. And it was, well. Quite something.)

Karen returned all too soon, and slipped her hand into his as they exited the cafe. Jim's thoughts ran a mile a minute, making it incredibly difficult to focus on anything else - not the benign chatter they made on their journey, not the short walk, not the slight chill in the wind. All he could think about was Pam's texts, and what they possibly could mean.

 _I wish we could go back to the way things were._

 _I miss our friendship._

 _I miss hanging out._

And the most damning of all.

 _I just needed you to know._

Was she aware that she was parroting his words back to him? Had she thought about that night just as much as he had?

"Hey," Karen said, pulling him out of his reverie. She waited, patiently, until he met her eyes. "Everything okay?"

This clearly wasn't fair on her - surely thinking about another girl _this much_ had to be a form of cheating. "Yeah."

"'You sure? 'Cause you looked gone for a minute there."

"Just. Thinking. Stuff, with classes, you know." He wasn't making much sense.

Either Karen was unaware of that fact, or she was deciding to ignore it. "Okay…" She swung their joined hands, watching them intently for a moment. It was her turn to be deep in thought, now.

Jim was just about to suggest rushing the rest of the way to the Dunder-Mifflin block when she finally spoke up.

"I know this is a big…thing…for us." She began, choosing her words carefully. "And I get that you might need some time to think about it, but… Um." She paused, took a deep breath, and continued. "My parents are dropping by next weekend. I mean, they're heading across-state, but this is on their way, so they thought they'd stop here for a day… And I was wondering if you'd like to come to lunch with us."

Oh. _Oh_.

"I mean, you don't have to, or anything!" Karen hastily added, having read the expression on Jim's face a little too well. "But… It'd be nice if you could think about it? It's a big step, I know, but they've sorta been bugging me about meeting you, and it'd totally be low-key, like, no expectations. Well, a couple of expectations. But, you know." She trailed off, apparently having realised she was rambling.

"Um… Yeah."

"Just…" She reached out, touching his forearm in what was presumably meant to be a soothing gesture. "Think about it?"

"Yes. Sure. Of course." He was rewarded with a bright smile, and was grateful for the silence that followed for the duration of their walk.


	43. well i was waiting for you my whole life

**title taken from: "Honeybee" by Steam Powered Giraffe**

 **;)**

* * *

By the time he made it back to his dorm room, Jim was in a complete daze. His head was spinning, his mind swimming, and all he could do was think.

Serious consideration was not his strong point. Truthfully, he tended to just go with the flow, take the easiest or most convenient path, and worry about potential consequences later. It wasn't that he was lazy, necessarily, just that he preferred making less effort.

But now Pam seemed to be trying to tell him something, to hint at something, and Karen wanted him to meet her parents, and everything was just - moving - too - fast.

He sat down.

Looking for anything at all to clear his mind a little, he reached for the nearest object in his vicinity. Grabbing blindly at his desk, he found a worn corner, smoothed a crumple with his finger, and half-pulled, half-lifted the book to his lap. Of course it was _that book_ … Her name, printed in wobbly block letters, glared up at him, but he flipped back the cover anyway.

The first page was benign notes, taken - going by the date - on the first or perhaps second day of classes. They evidently were written for a class she soon dropped - Statistics, from the look of it. His eyes glazed over the text without really reading it. Instead, he studied the loops and curves of her handwriting, the parts where the words were huddled close together due to the speed of her hand, the margins where she doodled little crowds of stars.

By page 4 he was getting more into it. At this point, it seemed, she was losing some of her previous reservations. The notes became more shorthand, more abbreviated, more humorous. More her. The drawings in the margins spread out and took up more space, soon becoming so elaborate that they would, at times, take up entire pages.

Then he reached History, and his attention shifted. The only words on the first pages had been recorded sparingly, across several classes. It was hard to believe it had been nearly 6 months since then.

His eyes drifted down to the bottom of the page as if compelled by magnets, and there it was. The answer to everything. Lightly, he traced the outline. The curve of its back, the stub of its tail. Somehow it was easier to scrutinise in close detail than actually see it how it really was. _"What do you mean you don't mistake me for being a student? I look exactly like you all!"_ It certainly wasn't the best joke he had ever made, and truthfully, it was kind of dumb, but she had laughed at it anyway, she laughed at him anyway. She had smiled and teased and giggled and he loved that.

He used to love that.

Maybe he still did.

Hm…

For the first time since opening up to the page, Jim allowed himself to really see the drawing as it was. As a whole. He stared for a moment, zoned out, lost in the memories of the start of the year. What had went wrong? It couldn't just have been the rejection, as he once had assumed. It was clear now: he was just as at fault.

Suddenly it all seemed so simple.

Huffing out a laugh, he pushed off the bed, leapt to his feet. Ran a hand through his hair and just _felt_ , for the first time in a while, _felt_ a weight being lifted from his shoulders.

It was Pam. It was always Pam.

Now all he had to do was tell her.

* * *

There was no time to react when Jim Halpert burst through her door at 11 o'clock at night.

The sudden spurt of light in her previously dark room was a shock to her eyes, so she blinked a couple times, trying to get used to the sight. Jim was panting slightly, as though he'd been running, and presently wore an anxious, tense-looking expression on his face.

When Pam came to, however, he schooled his expression into something more casual, apparently hyperaware of the fact that he had looked uncool for a single moment.

"What's-" She started, but was interrupted.

"Are you free for lunch tomorrow?"

"I…" Huh? What was going - Wait.

Wait.

Was he…?

No.

But…?

"Um. S-sure, yeah. But what, what for?"

"Oh." He looked confused for all of two seconds before realising her predicament. "Oh! Sorry. Yeah. A date."

A.

Date.

A d-a-t-e.

With Jim.

!

…Who currently was waiting for her answer. Damnit.

"Yes." Pam found herself nodding in sharp, jerky movements, her eyes welling inexplicably with tears. "I. Yes. Yep."

Jim's grin got even wider, somehow, and he ran a hand through his hair. "Great. That's… Yeah. Nice. Um." Awkwardly and seemingly in an act of faux courage, he used his non-preoccupied hand to shoot finger guns at her. "It's a date, then."

She merely nodded once more, unable to form coherent sentences.

He responded to her nod with one of his one, and turned on his heels to leave the room. "I guess I'll see you tomorrow, then, at lunch."

"Wait." Pam lunged forward, propelling herself off her desk chair. She crossed the small room in a matter of milliseconds and hesitated only briefly before throwing her arms around his neck and burying her face against his chest and breathing, breathing, breathing, for maybe the first time in months.

He returned the hug in kind, huffing out a little, almost disbelieving, laugh.

In the end, neither of them knew exactly how long they had stood there.

In the end, they supposed it didn't really matter.

* * *

"Pam, why did I just see _Jim freaking Halpert_ leaving our room?"

"Um."

"Pam! Oh, my God!"

* * *

 **not the end. not yet! I'm thinking a couple more chapters, plus maybe an epilogue. anyways... what do you guys think? anticlimactic? too dramatic? not dramatic enough? whatever**


	44. though there may be danger there

**story time! so 2 nights ago i finished the drafts of both this chapter and the next one. then i transferred the text to a new document, for editing purposes, and my old shitty laptop crashed. as a result, the entirety of this chapter and the next one was lost.**

 **this is the rewrite of that draft, unedited for** **time constraints.**

 **it's not as good.**

 **title taken from: "Fools Rush In" by Peggy Sue**

* * *

The high didn't last until the morning, as Jim had hoped it would.

He awoke with a distinct feeling of guilt deep in his gut, distracting his thoughts while he recalled the night before, until he was unable to ignore the reason for much longer.

He had to break up with Karen. Today. Karen, his girlfriend. Karen, who lived in the same building as him. Karen, who attended the same Art class as his -

Shit.

Things were gonna get messy.

* * *

After a late night of staying up with Kelly, gossiping, Pam ended up sleeping in quite late the following day.

Her phone showed 10:14am, the image flashing against her closed eyes when she yawned. Her roommate was still clocked out - all she could see was the faint shape under the blankets, but Pam guessed she was completely unconscious.

Though she certainly wouldn't admit it if Kelly had been awake to hear it, she was secretly disappointed. She had actually sort of enjoyed the talk last night - the giggling and hugging and going over the previous events in excruciating detail. There really wasn't much she and Kelly had in common, so it was always nice to find something to bond over.

And it was especially nice being allowed the opportunity to relive _the moment_ over and over, being able to analyse and go over every little thing that happened, and have an outsider back up her conclusions and challenge her perceptions on the rest.

She still wasn't entirely sure where she stood with Jim, but things appeared to be becoming a whole lot clearer.

It was with this happy thought that she washed, dressed, brushed her teeth, and headed out for the morning. She hoped the cafeteria would still be serving some breakfast-type foods, but no matter: if they weren't, she could always take the short walk into the nearby town. After all, her first class of the day didn't start until noon.

It was uncharacteristically warm for mid-March. The sunny weather appeared to reflect her good mood. This day seemed like the type of day where nothing could possibly go wrong…

Until it did.

She pushed the doors to the cafeteria open, and saw a larger amount of people there than she originally expected to. And there, sat at a table right in the centre, was Jim and Karen Filipelli.

Her entire body seemed to freeze up all at once. All she could do was watch the scene play out.

Karen was sipping from a disposable coffee cup, watching her companion expectantly. Her non-occupied hand slid across the table, and for a sick second Pam thought perhaps Jim might take it, but he quickly moved his own hand away.

Was that good, or bad?

Jim ruffled and pulled at his hair - a telltale sign that he was nervous. Karen picked up on it, and placed her cup down, clasping her hands over the table. She said something to him that made him hang his head. Pam could only guess, but it looked like the other girl was confronting him about something.

Oh, God… Were they breaking up?

Jim spoke without raising his head, and Karen's face seemed to crumple.

They were.

Somehow it felt wrong to watch after this realisation. Pam backed slowly away from the open doorway, and speed-walked the rest of the way until she got outside again.

It seemed she would have to walk to the town for breakfast, after all.

* * *

The comfort food Pam had chosen - a sweet cherry scone - done little to calm her thoughts. She chewed pensively in the small window table she had taken, watching the occasional passer-bys make their way across, but all she could think about was the scene that played out in the cafeteria.

Realistically, she knew she should probably be _happy_ about the development. Her boyfr- _Jim_ , who at present was not her _anything_ , had broken up with his old girlfriend, meaning he was… What? Open, to a new relationship? With her?

She was really overthinking this.

All that mattered, really was that they had broken up. Jim would reach out when he thought the time was right, and Pam would just have to try to avoid Karen for a little while, the poor girl.


	45. side by side in every class

**title taken from: "We're Going To Be Friends" by The White Stripes**

* * *

 _text._

.

 _sent 17:13_

 **TO** : Pam

 **FROM** : Jim Halpert

so.

 _read 17:15_

 _._

 _sent 17:15_

 _ **TO**_ _:_ Jim

 **FROM** : Pam

so

 _read 17:16_

 _._

 _sent 17:17_

 **TO** : Pam

 **FROM** : Jim Halpert

karen and i ended things today

 _read 17:17_

.

 _sent 17:23_

 **TO** : Jim

 **FROM** : Pam

…

i know already

sorry?

i saw you in the cafeteria

i wasn't spying or anything!

though that does make it sound like i was spying…

 _read 17:24_

.

 _sent 17:26_

 **TO** : Pam

 **FROM** : Jim Halpert

oh

that's okay

i don't mind!

i was just texting to let you know

that like. its over w/ her

and maybe to warn you?

in case she catches on and idk…..says things in class?

 _read 17:30_

.

 _sent 17:31_

 **TO** : Jim

 **FROM** : Pam

is that all you wanted to say?

(im sorry its really hard to convey teasing through text i hope it doesnt come off mean!)

 _read 17:32_

.

 _sent 17:33_

 **TO** : Pam

 **FROM** : Jim Halpert

yes

through text at least

(its okay i know you're not mean. even through text!)

 _read 17:33_

.

 _sent 17:36_

 **TO** : Jim

 **FROM** : Pam

are you trying to drop hints?

 _read 17:37_

.

 _sent 17:38_

 **TO** : Pam

 **FROM** : Jim Halpert

maybe.

perhaps if we spoke in person i could explain…..

:) ?

 _read 17:38_

.

 _sent 17:40_

 **TO** : Jim

 **FROM** : Pam

you're ridiculous.

but fine.

do you want to come over?

 _read 17:41_

.

 _sent 17:42_

 **TO** : Pam

 **FROM** : Jim Halpert

on my way

:)

 _read 17:43_

 _._

 _sent 17:45_

 **TO** : Jim

 **FROM** : Pam

:)

 _read 17:45_

* * *

When she opened the door, Pam blushed, even though neither of them had even said anything yet.

She hoped this - this godawful blushing thing - wouldn't be a permanent fixture in their relationship. It wasn't like her, to be this flustered by a boy.

"Hey," he shot her a shy smile as she stepped aside to let him in. A frown quickly crossed his face, though. "Kelly's not here?"

"Is she ever?"

"Ha. I guess not. I'm just too used to Dwight being constantly in our room…" He sank down into Pam's desk chair, leaving her to perch on the edge of her bed, leaning so her back was against the wall.

"Yeah?"

"Yep. He's been extra weird lately - jumpier. Won't stop going on about a _personal tragedy._ Plus, he refuses to set foot anywhere near the girls' floor."

"Oh." Pam thought about this. "Maybe he has an ex-girlfriend?"

Jim snorted.

* * *

At some point between early and late evening, the conversation had shifted into more personal, more intimate topics.

In a fit of impulsion, Pam decided to tell him once and for all how she really had felt during the time spent at home over Christmas.

In return, Jim spoke about the difficulties he faced in remaining simply her friend, in the few months before the end of the year, after they had first met.

Kelly phoned at 9 to tell Pam she was on her way back to their dorm, and it was for this reason that she hurried Jim out the door.

She stood staring at him for a moment, wondering whether he would kiss her. Wondering whether she would stop him.

He ended up kissing her cheek, promising to see her tomorrow, and taking off down the corridor just minutes before Kelly rounded the corner.


	46. On My Inactivity (not a chapter)

Yet another notice.

I haven't been all that active lately, which I guess some of you have noticed. (Hi!)

Let's be honest.

I began a new school year a few days ago (officially in my last year of high school!) and without being too rant-y, my classes have been a lot more difficult than I expected them to be. I'm at school for longer hours and by the time I come home, I have so much homework that by the time I'm finished with that + chores, I'm far too exhausted to write more than a couple hundred words.

Also...

The last time I watched a single episode of _The Office_ was back in 2015. I have a short attention span for inactive/finished shows, and as much as I love the show and all the characters, I'm just not as into it as I was back when I first started this fic. (Over a year ago, now, which... _Wow_.) It's difficult to write characters that I don't feel like I know _as well_ as I did when I began, if that makes sense.

Long story short, writing is hard, blah blah blah.

 **I'm no longer going to be uploading weekly.** This schedule worked for me before, but not anymore. I simply don't have enough time or motivation on my hands.

I'm really sorry about this, as I know many people enjoyed the weekly schedule and anticipated chapters and for that, I'm so grateful!

 **I am not quitting this fic. I'm gonna finish for sure - it just might take a little longer to get there.**

Thanks for reading so far, I really appreciate it.

Next chapter should be up by the middle of this week.


	47. i don't make it up like its no big deal

**thanks for being so supportive - this fic honestly wouldn't have reached the place it is at now if not for all you lovely readers :)**

 **also, to the Guest who left a review on the last chapter (or perhaps chapter 43? not really sure) I'm sorry for the inconsistency! i try always to reread chapters before writing the next one, but due to the Word crash and subsequent loss of the past couple chapters, i must have skipped that part out in the rewrite** **¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ sorry again! hopefully this chapter sort of makes up for it? (thank u for being so attentive, though!)**

 **credit where credit's due: the classroom scene in this is sort of inspired by a scene from a very old Harry Potter fanfic i read back in 2007/2008**

 **title taken from: "What's It Gonna Be?" by Shura**

* * *

Due to strange, unforeseen circumstances, Mr. Scott seemed to have upped the ante now that exams were fast approaching.

The past few days he had been actually _lecturing_ to the class; telling them the things they needed to know for their test. He had already assured them it wouldn't be too difficult, and there were a good number of people in the class who had only taken it as an easy credit, but despite this there was a sort of air of stress and negative anticipation in the room whenever there was a class on.

Jim in particular seemed to be just a bundle of nervous energy recently. Pam knew he had troubles staying focused, particularly during revision, so she could only imagine the stress he must have been under. She herself was now feeling a little scared, mostly of the expectations placed upon her - by professors, parents, herself.

It was in a particularly stressful History lesson - Mr. Scott had given them a couple of 'practice' pop quizzes to complete - that Jim suddenly let his pencil fall from his hand, clattering off the desk. It was loud enough to disturb only the few people sitting around him, but not enough that Mr. Scott would hear; nevertheless, Pam stole a glance at him anyway.

It was obvious that he was struggling. His hair was ruffled at the front from too much scrubbing, his eyebrows were creased, and when he was writing, his pen chicken-scratched across the page with real urgency.

After a minute or so of watching him, he began scribbling again. When he moved onto the next question, he took a break to think.

His left hand slipped down, dangling by his side.

It would be so easy to reach out and hold it.

But would he want her to?

Her right hand was cramping up anyway - surely she deserved a break, no matter how small...?

Hm.

Pam set down her own pencil carefully, trying hard not to make any noise and disrupt the rest of their class. She let her arm fall down, swinging it lightly by her side. Jim didn't flinch, although he perhaps was unaware of her attempted advances. Softly, she bumped the back of her hand against his.

He didn't obviously react, but Pam knew him pretty well by this point. His frame froze up ever so slightly, and so Pam knew he felt and understood what she had just done. Still, the reaction was not what she had hoped for.

Though, maybe if she was more clear...?

Once again, she bumped her hand against his, more firmly this time. When nothing happened once more, she decided to just give up - surely he would have reciprocated her signals of he really wanted to; maybe he just needed peace to focus and she was being annoying; or maybe it-

She felt something brush her wrist.

Caught slightly off-guard, she stole a glance at her companion.

Jim shot her a warm grin, and intertwined his fingers with hers. Pam felt a similar smile stretching across her own face, and had to duck her head to hide her blush.

* * *

"How did you find it?" Jim swung their joined hands as they walked. This thing - the hand-holding thing - wasn't exactly new in their relationship, but the in-public part was.

"Okay," Pam replied, using her free hand to nervously tuck an escaped strand of hair behind her ear. "How did you find it?"

Truthfully, it had been rather difficult. He knew that the maximum he could achieve in this particular class was a B. "It was fine." He said. "The usual, y'know."

"Oh. Good!" Pam seemed to perk up at that. She worried about him, sometimes - she knew all too well that his focus wasn't great. "That's - really good!"

"Yeah," he couldn't help but grin at how happy she was for him. Really. Though it was faintly time to change the subject. "Um. Anyway…"

"Hm?"

"Coffee later?"

"Definitely." She nodded, then took on a teasing sort of smirk. "You owe me, after last time."

"I know, I know." Pam wasn't deliberately trying to make him feel bad about his slip-up, but he was ashamed all the same. He'd apologised already and promised to make it up to her, and he guessed the latter part was going to finally happen today.

"I'm looking forward to it." She assured him, then surprised him by rolling up onto her tiptoes to plant a kiss on his cheek. "Really."

"Good." They resumed their walk. "'Cause it's gonna blow your mind, Beesly."

* * *

 **no idea when the next chapter will be up, though hopefully sooner rather than later. again, thanks for the patience.**


	48. send me the miles

**so...its been a while, i guess? *waves***

 **i'm guessing there'll only be about 3 chapters after this, including the epilogue, though i can't really commit to that plan yet. thanks to everyone who** **continues to read/review!**

 **title taken from: "Many The Miles" by Sara Bareilles**

* * *

It was over.

It didn't really hit Jim until much later, squeezed into a cramped cafeteria booth with Pam, Kelly, Ryan, and Dwight - _it was over, finally._

The old group (plus Dwight - or was he a part of the old group, really, originally? Jim couldn't remember) had arranged weeks ago to meet up for a celebratory lunch as soon as everyone's finals were over and done with. The get-together was intense and awkward at first. No one really knew what to say, and this was the first time they had really spent time together as a group since the previous year, but after 20 minutes or so of picking at sandwiches and casual - if strained - small talk, they seemed to settle back into their old routine easily enough.

At present, they were going over the classes they had chosen for next year. Kelly had definitively chosen her major - Fashion Retail. Ryan, Dwight, and Jim were in a couple of the same Business Management classes. Pam decided to pick up a French class for a couple of semesters, at least ( _"I just think it'd be nice to learn"_ ) and was pleased to discover that Ryan, also, had chosen it.

There was only one problem.

It appeared that he and Pam had no classes together for the following year.

Pam was taking History 201 (thankfully _not_ with Mr. Scott, this time) and mostly continuing with the Art classes relevant to her degree. It wasn't likely that their schedules would be as closely linked as they were for the first year.

Jim had worried it might turn into a fight, at first. And even if it didn't, it would be strange, next year, not being able to see her as much.

Pam had assured him that their scheduling differences shouldn't change a thing, really; it just meant that they would have to work a little harder to fit each other into their lives. (Plus, she reminded him, they had all summer to talk over the phone and visit each other and plan for the following school year.)

It was still a little strange, a little surreal.

The results for most of his classes were to be given out next week. Jim hadn't told Pam, yet, (she believed in him too much and would probably just say he was being pessimistic) but he was pretty sure he had failed History. That didn't really matter all that much, not to him at least, but he didn't wan this friends to lower their opinion of him. He especially didn't want _Pam_ to lower her opinion of him.

The aforementioned presently was sitting across from him, chatting to Kelly and sipping from an iced coffee. She was excited for the new year, he knew.

Whilst Kelly monologued, Pam caught his eye and smiled brightly at him. Jim felt a dopey grin of his own stretch across his face.

* * *

Later that night, Jim had just arrived back at the door to his room. It had become sort of a thing, every evening, for he and Pam to hang out in her own room (if Kelly was absent, which she very frequently was) or even just in the library or cafeteria. Dwight complained at first that his roommate was breaking school policy, but after a while seemed to get sued to the idea. Jim guessed it was because Dwight enjoyed having time alone in their room.

This particular night, however, Dwight was not alone. At all.

Jim pushed open the door to his room uncaringly, as he had done a thousand times before. However, instead of being greeted by the sight of Dwight, hunched over a textbook at his desk, he was greeted by the sight of a small blonde girl, eyes comically wide, frozen in place and rooted to the spot.

"Can I help you?" Jim managed to force out, after no one in the room moved for several tense seconds.

"Um," Dwight began loudly, hands twitching at his sides. "This is. She - I mean."

"Got to go!" The blonde girl yelped, having found her voice finally, dashing past Jim out of the room.

Dwight, meanwhile, was attempting to slink away from his roommate's stare.

"So, uh…" Jim shuffled his feet. "Who was that?"

"No one." Dwight replied quickly, moving to sit at his desk. He swivelled the chair around so that all Jim could see was his back.

"Are you sure?" Jim prodded. "Because it sort of looked like-"

"Please don't tell the RA."

"What?"

"Please don't tell the RA I had a girl in my room."

Jim wanted so badly to mess with him, but Dwight was practically begging. He seemed seriously scared about the whole thing. "I… Won't. Don't worry about it." He sat down heavily on his bed, trying to get a good look at his roommate.

"Thank you." Dwight finally spoke up.

"Don't mention it." Jim replied, staring at his feet. Being nice to Dwight wasn't something he was used to. "So, is she your girlfriend?"

"No. Maybe. No. Pffft. Girlfriend? What are you talking about? I don't - I have never had a girlfriend."

"Really? 'Cause I seem to remember you mentioning that you were dating someone once."

Dwight shot him a somewhat sheepish look. "Her name is Angela."

"Angela." The name sounded familiar… Possibly Jim had passed her room a couple times. "Huh."

"Let's never talk about this again."

"Sure thing."

The two were silent for a couple of minutes, Jim settling more comfortably on his bed and Dwight retrieving his laptop from its case.

"Do you wanna double-date? Me and Pam, you and Angela?"

"Never."


	49. i've got a reason for your story

**so, this is the last chapter. there'll be an epilogue up later tonight or tomorrow, depends.**

 **thank you to everyone who's been reading this for the past year and a half. kudos if you were around since the beginning. this is the longest fic I've ever written (70k words!) and I'm grateful for the experience. when i started this i had just turned 15, now I'm closer to 17. my writing style has changed a lot since then so thank you for the people who stayed despite the amount of changes this fic went through. you're the best! i read everyone's reviews and although i don't really reply to them nowadays, i really truly appreciate it.**

 **title taken from: "Willst Du" by Alligatoah (english translation)**

* * *

They held hands until the very last moment. Pam's father in the car, the belongings long since transferred from her room to the vehicle. Mr. Beesly was - graciously - looking away as Pam and Jim parted, perhaps due to a kind wish to give them some privacy, or (more likely) a sense of paternal awkwardness at witnessing her daughter with her college boyfriend.

Pam hadn't exactly planned for their goodbye to be so - well. _Uncomfortable_. She supposed it was because, for all the dramatics (and _tears_ , God, she really didn't want to cry but somehow it just happened) it wasn't _really_ a goodbye after all. More, see you later.

When Jim got home he had already promised to FaceTime her. They'd be apart for just a few hours, spending time with family and settling back into their regular home life, before they were able to speak again.

So it wasn't a goodbye. Shouldn't be sad, really. But there was just so much hinging on it. Like the final scene from an old romantic movie, it was supposed to be the overdramatic climax, all tears and passion and _"I'll never let go, Jack!"_

But in the end they just stood in the parking lot, holding sweaty hands and running over potential leaving scenarios in their heads.

"Why is this so hard?" Jim eventually burst out.

"I know, right?" Pam agreed, thankful that she wasn't the one to break the silence.

"We're gonna see each other again in a matter of hours."

"Yeah."

"So why's there this…" He seemed to have trouble finding the correct word.

"Awkwardness?" Pam suggested.

"Yes! Exactly."

"I don't know."

"Me neither."

They stood for another long moment, Jim shuffling his feet, Pam glancing worriedly to her father in the car. Surely he would want to leave soon; avoid the oncoming rush of traffic. They didn't have much time.

"Maybe if we don't treat it as goodbye…" Pam mused aloud.

"Huh?"

"Well, like you said, it's not really goodbye, is it? We'll see each other soon. It's only really goodbye to the building, and even then, maybe we'll be in the same building again next year."

"What is it, then? I mean, we can't just…. Leave, without saying anything."

Pam thought about this. It was a strange dilemma.

Her father honked the horn.

"Um," she began quickly, brain going into overdrive. Fidgeting with the hem of her laundry-day shirt.

Another impatient honk.

"I'll see you soon!" She practically squeaked, impulsively flinging her arms around his neck. Jim reciprocated the hug, albeit a little bemusedly, and watched as she scurried away.

Pam had almost reached the car when she turned once more. The words just came out of her mouth, not thinking, not really remembering the importance or significance of the phrase. It felt natural and right, like something she'd said thousands of times before - and she _had_ said it thousands of times before, right?

"Love you!"

It was only after seeing the shock - no, not shock, far happier and positive - surprise on his face that she realised. Oh no. Though it might have _felt_ natural, this definitely wasn't something they had done before. (Or, _she_ hadn't, at least.)

She was all set to apologise, all red-faced and flustered, when Jim grinned. Classic Jim-grin.

"I love you, too." He called, waving a little. "See you tonight."

Thought it was still kind of embarrassing, Pam found herself smiling too. Love.

She climbed into the passenger seat of the car.


	50. like real people do

**so, this is it. in case you missed it, the final chapter was posted a couple days ago; this is the epilogue. title taken of course from "Like Real People Do" by Hozier.**

* * *

It was the after-party. Pam was - Well. She wasn't drunk exactly. Jim wouldn't even go so far as to say she was _tipsy_. But she'd had a couple of drinks, enough to make her a little loose-lipped and giggly. Jim on the other hand hadn't drank anything - or eaten, for that matter, when was the last time he had eaten? - and was relying on the just-graduated high to pull him through the rest of the night.

Tomorrow they were to start the packing-up process of the apartment. They had almost the entire summer before their flights out, but for some reason it hadn't quite seemed real to Jim until now.

They were moving. To England.

Only for a year, yes, and then it would be (presumably) back to Pennsylvania; (definitely) back to America.

Everything was all set up in advance, so there was really no reason to worry - the apartment (or, _flat_ ) would be fit to move in when they got there, and they were due to start working a week after they moved in. It wasn't a particularly exciting job, but it was something, and Jim guessed it could count as work experience in his field. Pam was due to work there also, though only on a part-time basis - the rest of the time would be spent studying art. There was a seemingly-highly-esteemed art course for adults based just outside London. It was only 20 minutes away by train.

Slough didn't seem to be the most glamorous town in the country, but it was cheap, and close enough to London to be interesting. Wernham-Hogg also didn't seem to be very exciting - it was a paper company of all things, still chugging along in the digital age - but it was work, and work meant experience, as well as money.

Jim was broken from his thoughts when Pam made her way across the room towards him. Her black gown hanging haphazardly from one shoulder, hat long since put away. Her eyes were bright and shining, though if it were from the sharp lighting or unshed happy tears, Jim couldn't be sure. She reached for his hands before they were a foot away from each other, and he took them, kind of pulling her the rest of the way.

"I'm so excited." She half-yelled over the music.

Not knowing what to say, Jim just nodded in agreement.

They stood, staring at each other, for another long moment.

"Are you ready?" He asked, and didn't even know what he was asking _about_.

Neither did Pam, it seemed, though she answered anyway. "Yes."


End file.
